


Too Far Gone

by TinyCurlyFry



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Mild Hurt/Comfort, No Sex, No Smut, Sfw besides swearing and violence, Swearing, Underfell, Underfell inspired
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-24
Updated: 2016-06-10
Packaged: 2018-05-28 17:26:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 26,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6338440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TinyCurlyFry/pseuds/TinyCurlyFry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After losing both his children to the humans Asgore became a monster in the truest sense and turned this anger against his kingdom. On top of collecting souls to break the barrier the King who has become too far gone has turned the Underground into a living hell. Frisk falls into the Underground after running away from home, and finds them in the middle of this world diseased with hate and fear, a world where it seems to truly be 'kill or be killed'. Frisk refuses to accept this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. You can't PET THE ENEMY, FRISK!!!

**Author's Note:**

> Within the span of 3 days I wrote 14,000+ words of this thing. Needless to say, I'm excited about this one!  
> Also, I'm going to say it now so that there's absolutely no worries about this: I know what a lot of people do with Underfell and there will be none of that in this story. feedback and criticism is always appreciated. I'm especially nervous about how these first few chapters turned out.

Frisk curled within themself, it hurt too much to move. Golden flowers flattened beneath their hands as they attempted once more to get up, but their arms refused to support them, causing tears to swell in their eyes. Even so, Frisk refused to stay on the ground. They squeezed their eyes shut as they fought through the pain that sprouted as they moved. A sigh of relief escaped them when they finally succeeded in pulling themself to their knees. Frisk looked about them desperately, searching the ground around them. They spotted the first-aid kit and immediately pulled it to their chest. There wasn’t anything in there that would take the pain from falling away, but that didn’t matter. As long as they had it, it would be okay. 

Frisk stayed like that for a while, simply letting the searing pain from sitting up ease. As they sat there a noise came to their attention. The sound was muffled, too far for Frisk to make out clearly. Driven by curiosity, Frisk gritted their teeth and pulled one of their knees out from under them. Their legs buckled and trembled, but after a few agonizing seconds they were standing. The only way to go in the room was a single hallway in front of them. Taking each step carefully, Frisk slowly made their way forward. Frisk soon recognized the noise. Someone was crying. Frisk hurried their steps, ignoring their legs’ protests. They turned the corner, nearly running into a wall of glowing white bullets. They gasped and fell backwards, pain exploding at their back.

Whoever had been crying gave an inhuman hiss. A silent cry of pain came from Frisk as they tried to shift themself onto their side to see deeper into the room. Their vision was blurred by tears, only a small blur of yellow and white could be made out. The white bullets that had been there only a second ago had dissipated. A whisper broke through the silence of the room from somewhere in front of Frisk. “It can’t be…You’re...human.”

Frisk nodded, blinking away the tears. They couldn’t make sense of what was in front of them. The voice had come from immediately in front of them, but the only thing Frisk could make out was a single flower. Frisk shifted their gaze around the room the best they could, but still saw nothing else. Frisk blinked a few more times, thinking that maybe there was something against the dark walls they just couldn’t make it out yet. The flower blinked back.

Two black teary eyes stared at them in shock, underneath of which a mouth moved as if to say something, but none came out. Frisk tried to get up once more but their strength was spent, failing to even bring themself to their knees. The flower gasped, “You’re hurt!”

A white glow appeared around Frisk and, much to Frisk’s surprise, the pain began to fade away. Soon enough all the pain had disappeared, and Frisk was able to stand without even the slightest of difficulty. The flower lowered its gaze to the ground, “Sorry about that. You...uh… startled me.”

Frisk clapped their hands to pull the monster’s attention from the ground and gave a reassuring thumbs up. “Oh, I should introduce myself. I’m As… Flowey. Flowey the Flower.” Frisk wondered if they only imagined the bitterness at the word ‘flower’, “What’s your name?”

Frisk hesitated. They raised their hand and slowly signed out the letters. Flowey’s face creased in confusion. “You can’t speak?”

Frisk shook their head.

“Oh… I’m.. uh… sorry, but I don’t understand the gestures you were making.”

Frisk smiled reassuringly. They figured the chances had been small, but it never hurts to try. Frisk gestured to the room and gave a questioning look at the flower. It took Flowey a few seconds to realize what Frisk was asking. “Oh, wait! You must have just fallen down here. Golly, you must be so confused! You’re in the Underground, human. This is the world in which us monsters have been sealed for hundreds of years. I guess you’re…. stuck here now.”

Frisk shrugged. Flowey’s mouth dropped, “No! This isn’t something to be taken lightly, you idiot! In this world it’s kill or _be_ killed! It’s dangerous!”

Frisk’s carefree smile fell at that, and a chill went through the rest of their body. They had had run away to escape the endless cycle of fear and hurt, only to put themself in greater danger. “Oh! But there is… one person who would help you. I can bring you to them… if you want?”

Frisk trusted Flowey but he didn’t look too fond of the idea of bringing them to this monster. Frisk tilted their head in concern. “No, it’s fine! She’s probably the only monster left in this hell hole still with a kind soul. It’s just....” Flowey didn’t finish that thought, shaking his head as if to clear it away. “No, it’s fine. You’ll be safe with her! She’s really strong.”

Flowey disappeared under the ground only to reappear at the other end of the room, “Come on. I’ll guide you through the ruins.”

Lucky for the both of them, the first few rooms were empty. Flowey easily guided and disarmed the traps that were hidden. In the first small room they entered Flowey told them the entire floor was made of pressure plates. But, this was apparently one of the easiest puzzles, as only the middle tiles that led straight to the door were actually traps. Still, all the other plates had to be depressed in order to open the door, and figuring out where the edges of the dangerous middle path were was caused Frisk to tremble with uncertainty as they took cautious steps around the room. The next hall was less nerve-wracking, as Flowey told Frisk to simple stay at the entrance as he went to the correct levers to disarm the traps.

But, their peaceful trek was short-lived. It was in the next room that they encountered the first monster, a frog-like creature. Flowey had noticed it before it saw either of them and quickly hid Frisk behind the doorway. “I’ll handle this.” He whispered.

Flowey’s stem quivered and the ground beneath him broke a little. Frisk caught a glimpse of vines sliding from the fresh cracks. Frisk realized what Flowey was about to do and waved their hands violently. Flowey paused, “Huh? What’s wrong?”

They crossed their arms in an x-shape, shaking their head. “Why are you stopping me?! I told you, human… it’s kill or be killed. We have to get past the froggit _somehow_!”

Frisk decisively shook their head again. They would not allow anyone to get hurt if they could help it. They put up a hand and stepped past Flowey, “What are you doing?!” He hissed.

Frisk put up their index finger, asking Flowey to give them a moment. They needed to at least try. They wouldn’t forgive themself until they did. When they drew close the froggit finally sensed them and spun around, summoning what wasn’t too different than the attack Flowey had made, except that these looked more like flies than generic pellets. Frisk dove out of the way as the froggit launched a few at them. They raised both hands to try to communicate to the froggit to stop, but it was no use.

Frisk’s mind raced, trying to think of something they could do that might dissuade the monster from attacking. They failed to dodge one of the flies in the next wave and gasped at the pain that erupted in their arm. Frisk drew closer still, just going with their instincts even though they still weren’t sure what their instincts would have them do. They were now practically on top of the froggit, who had yet another bombardment ready. Frisk closed the rest of the distance before the pellets launched and… pet the top of the froggit’s head. It flinched and the flies drove into Frisk, but Frisk believed it had only been because of its shock and fear. They bit their lip, forcing themself to endure the pain. This time, there were no flies to immediately replace the last ones. Frisk leaned down and kissed the top of its head, patting it again as they lifted it again. The froggit stared at them in complete confusion. Frisk smiled and moved their hands to simulate walking and pointed to the door on the other side. The froggit only stared, the confusion had left it incapable of even processing what Frisk was trying to say.

Frisk pointed at Flowey, who squeaked at the gesture, then at themself, and finally to the door. They slowly got back up and walked back over to Flowey and the case Frisk had left besides him. They scooped up the first-aid kit back into their hands and slowly made their way through the room, careful not to make any sudden movements that might startle the froggit. They realized Flowey wasn’t following.

Frisk turned. Flowey was still in the same spot, alternating his gaze between them and the Froggit. Frisk gestured for him to follow and gave the froggit a thumbs up. Flowey shrank closer to the ground at first, but eventually popped to their side. Frisk continued walking to the other door, this time with Flowey reluctantly following after them. When the two of them reached the other Frisk couldn’t stop themself from signing ‘thank you’, even though they were sure the froggit wouldn’t understand the gesture. They then waved good bye and continued past the door. Once on the other side Flowey let out a scream, releasing the overwhelming tension that had built up inside him. “YOU IDIOT!!! WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?! YOU COULDN’T HAVE GOTTEN YOURSELF KILLED! YOU ALMOST _DID_ GET YOURSELF KILLED!”

Frisk knelt down to Flowey. He shifted awkwardly under their gaze. “Okay, okay. Yes, you SOMEHOW managed to not kill one monster. It was actually REALLY impressive. BUT YOU CAN’T CONTINUE LIKE THIS! YOU CAN’T! Not all monsters are as easily stunned or confused as froggits. Most monsters are a lot stronger than them too!”

He look at their torn shirt and conjured up a healing light, just like he had before. “And I can’t keep healing you either. I’m not very good at it, so it’ll deplete my magic really quickly. I won’t be able to get us out in a tight situation if that happens!”

Frisk understood Flowey’s reasoning, and even though he might be right, but they shook their head regardless. There was no way they were going to let either of them hurt the other monsters. They weren’t like that, and maybe, just maybe neither were the others. Not really. Flowey believed that it was kill or be killed, maybe the others attacked for the same reason. Somehow, Frisk hoped they’ll be able to communicate to Flowey more effectively, and ask him more about the Underground. For now, however, they had to keep going.

Or, at least, they would have continued on if it weren’t for the sudden sound of fast footsteps approaching the corridor they were in. They both froze and turned to face the direction of the sound, equally worried. Suddenly, Flowey gasped and dove under the ground even before any sign of the owner of the heavy footsteps became visible. Frisk looked around for any sign of Flowey reappearing but he was nowhere to be seen. A shadow was cast beyond the corner where the path narrowed. The figure finally caught up to the shadow and stepped around the corner.


	2. Welcome Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's short and uneventful so I'm posting ch.3 in a few moments because why not

What rounded the corner was a goat-like monster that towered far above Frisk’s height, especially at the current moment as Frisk was still kneeling on the ground. The two froze as they saw each other, Frisk out of fear while the goat monster had frozen from shock. A hand had flown up to her mouth as she spotted Frisk on the ground, and she quickly ran over to them. “Oh! Now, do not be afraid little one, I shall not hurt you.”

“There now, let me help you up.” She helped Frisk to their feet with a gentle hand, most likely under the impression that Frisk had fallen to their knees. She gave a warm smile, “Greeting, child. I am Toriel, a humble monster who lives here in these ruins. What might your name be?”

Frisk pressed down the sigh that threatened to come, instead taking the chance once more and signed _F.R.I.S.K_. When Toriel only frowned, they put a hand to their throat and shook their head. Toriel understood that, “Oh, you poor thing! Well, you have nothing to fear my child, I shall guide you through the ruins. You may rest and eat at my home.”

Frisk was pretty certain this was the monster Flowey had mentioned when they met. Any monsters they came across immediately scattered at the sight of Toriel; Frisk doubted any of them waited long even to even notice them walking closely behind her. Toriel didn’t show any intention of attacking any of them, the lack of fighting being a huge relief to Frisk. Frisk also wondered if it was possible for Toriel to be even more familiar with the puzzles than Flowey had been. She moved about with such confidence, making it through the rooms in at least half the time Frisk and Flowey had.

The ruins unexpectedly became much wider, and Frisk stared at the tall tree that stood in the middle of the room they had just entered. If it hadn’t been for the lack of sunlight, Frisk would almost say it really did feel as though they were outside. The lack of sunlight probably explained the bareness of the tree. Toriel let go of Frisk’s hand only when they were at the entrance of the house on the other side of the tree. She smiled down at Frisk as she unlocked the door and held it open for them. “Welcome to your new home, little one.”

Frisk stepped into the purple building, admittedly shocked to see how… normal the place looked. There were bookcases against the walls, carpets on the floor, a few house plants, it could have easily passed as a human’s home. “I suppose I should hold off on snail pie tonight,” Toriel said with a warm chuckle, “I want you to have a good time living here. Hmmm, I know! Hold up a finger to tell me which you like better, butterscotch or cinnamon?”

Frisk though for a second then held up one finger. Toriel smiled, “Butterscotch it is then.”

“Follow me, my child. I shall show you where you may rest. I’m sure you must be exhausted.”

Frisk nodded and took Toriel’s offered hand in their own. She stopped at the first door of the hallway and patted Frisk fondly on the head, “Well here is your room. Please, get some rest. Make yourself comfortable. I shall get started on that pie.” And with that, hurried to the other half of the house. Frisk opened the door to reveal a child’s bedroom. Again, it surprised Frisk how human the place felt. They glanced behind them at the door. Shouldn’t they try to find Flowey? Where the heck had he gone? Why was he avoiding Toriel like the plague if he believed her to be the only nice monster in the whole Underground?

They flopped onto the bed and mulled over these things, trying to figure out what they were supposed to do now? Perhaps this was their new home. Frisk supposed it was nice. Odd, but nice.

Frisk didn’t realize they had drifted off to sleep till they stirred, met by a delicious smell that was wafting through their room. Frisk stretched and swung their legs over the side of the bed when they caught sight of the slice of pie on the floor. They didn’t bother moving it from the floor, simply sat themself beside it and took a big bite out of it. Frisk gave an airy giggle. It was a butterscotch _and_ cinnamon pie. And it was delicious. Frisk closed there eyes as they slowly pulled the fork from their mouth, their taste buds experiencing heaven. However, they stopped about halfway through. _Flowey should try it too_ , they thought. They needed to find Flowey.

Frisk dug around the shelves and tables of the room and hallway till they finally had a small notebook and a crayon in their hands. Satisfied, Frisk head through the rest of the house in search of Toriel. Frisk found her sitting happily in a tall arm chair, a book opened in her hands. She looked up in surprise when Frisk entered the room, but quickly offered them a smile. “Oh, up already, little one? I guess all you needed was a small nap?”

Frisk nodded and opened the notebook, scribbling onto the first page. They turned it towards Toriel to read, ‘Could I pick some of the flowers outside?’. Toriel blinked in surprise, “Well, I suppose? I’m afraid there aren’t too many flowers in the immediate area, but please don’t wander away from the house.”

Frisk nodded and hurried off back to the bedroom. They found an old boot in one of the trunks in the room, why there were so many human shoes was a thought Frisk chose to push to the back of their mind. They had a strong feeling they knew why, and they didn’t want to dwell on it.

Once outside Frisk looked around fretfully, unsure if Flowey would even still be nearby. Maybe he had already disappeared to another place far away from here, figuring he had finished his jobs through leading Frisk to Toriel. Still, Frisk got to work filling the boot with dirt, hoping it wouldn’t be too uncomfortable for the small flower monster. As Frisk was finishing a small voice sounded behind them, “Howdy?”

Frisk gasped and spun around to face Flowey. They waved happily to the flower and opened their notebook. ‘I want you to come with me’, they wrote. Flowey frowned, “C-come with you? Where?”

Frisk scribbled, “Inside, silly.”

“I don’t know… I don’t w… I don’t want her to see me.” Frisk almost didn’t hear what he said when he dropped his voice to a small whisper “not like this.”

Frisk returned to their notebook, and when it was taking longer than usual Flowey watched over their shoulder. ‘I told her I was picking flowers. I could sneak you in with a few other ones. We could talk in my room without too much worry about being interrupted.’

Flowey still looked unsure of the idea but agreed, “Well… alright. But… Why do you want to have me around so badly?”

Frisk gave him a big smile and scrawled in big letter, ‘Because we’re friends!’

Flowey startled “F-Friends?!”

They nodded and held out a hand. Flowey stared at it a second before returning a tentative smile and brought a vine to theirs. Frisk turned the page, ‘Now we just need to find some flowers.’

Flowey knew exactly where to find more yellow flowers. He told Frisk to stay next to the house as he went and got them, under the same opinion as Toriel that Frisk should wander around if they could help it. Frisk carefully planted them into the boot and turned to Flowey. He had pulled himself from the ground, short roots spilling on the purple stones. He hesitated, “M-maybe I should hide in your backpack. You know, until we get to your room. I-I don’t want to risk her seeing me!”

Frisk really wanted to know why Flowey was going to such lengths to avoid Toriel, but didn’t let curiosity get the better of them. They’d wait till later to pester Flowey about it. Right now, they nodded and held out a hand to lift him up, putting him into the backpack with great care. They tilted their notebook so he could see it from within, ‘are you sure you’re okay in there?’

He nodded, “I’m alright.”

They re-entered the house, and Frisk peered into the room over. Toriel was still sitting in her arm chair. Frisk waved at Toriel with one hand, and showed the boot to her. She smiled fondly, “Oh, how adorable, little one. Where are you going to put them?”

Frisk tried their best to accurately point in the direction of their door, unsure if they could actually convey where they meant to Toriel. She didn’t say so one way or another, “Tell me if you need anything else, alright?”

Frisk nodded and skipped back to their new room. They put the boot on the dresser, right besides the dusty picture frame. They opened the backpack and lifted Flowey from the bag. He planted the roots into the loose dirt and gave an appreciative nod to Frisk. Frisk slid the notebook from under the boot, ‘What do you want to talk about?’

“You’re one who wanted to talk. But… uh.. I still don’t know your name.”

Oh, yeah. Frisk realized they should probably write it down for Toriel as well soon. They scribbled it down and turned it to Flowey, ‘My name’s Frisk! Nice to meet you Flowey!’

“We already met, dummy!” He said light-heartedly, then added. “Nice to meet you too, Frisk.”


	3. There's No Place like Home.....At Least, Not Anymore

It was Frisk’s third day living when staying inside the house was starting to get to Frisk. They were bored and restless, a frustrating combination. Toriel didn’t really like them leaving the house, only letting them stay in the surrounding rooms. Even then, it was only for a few minutes at a time. Frisk was also forbidden from going downstairs, a mystery that drove them crazy with curiosity. Frisk flopped backwards on the floor, writing messily into their notebook. They held it up over them with both hands, ‘I’m bored!!!’

Flowey made a concerned noise, “Well, you could ask Toriel to take you on a walk into ‘Home’ if you want. I don’t know how likely she is to agree, though.”

Frisk sat up, ‘Home?’

“It’s, uh, where the monster used to live when things were…. Better?”

Frisk became incredibly interested at that, “Why’d everyone leave?”

Flowey’s stem twitched uncomfortable, “Umm… it was… Well there was... this thing that happened in the Royal Family.”

Frisk huffed at how vague he was being, ‘what happened?’

Flowey fumbled with a jumble of words before he crossed his arms, “I-I Don’t want to talk about it!”

Frisk threw their hands in the air in exasperation. “It’s just a touchy subject, okay?!” His voice then fell into a whimper, “I wasn’t even there to see it happen. Only how it was before…. And then...this mess.”

Frisk decided they should probably drop it. At least for now. They at least knew what they wanted to do now. They held up one more page, ‘sorry.’

Flowey tried to smile, but it was resembled more of a grimace. Frisk sighed and pulled themself to their feet. Frisk left the room to look for Toriel. Unfortunately, the house was empty. Most likely Toriel was out to get more food. Frisk wished she would bring them with her on these trips, but Toriel wouldn’t allow it. Ever. The way she seemed absolutely opposed to it made Frisk uneasy.

So instead, Frisk scanned through the books besides the fireplace. They never really took the time to look through the titles, so maybe there was something here that was related to the object of Frisk’s interest. There were actually a few books, old and faded, in the bottom corner of the shelves. Frisk tried their best to read the worn covers. Frisk realized they were all related to one another, a series of important events that had been recorded over the span of a few years. The oldest one had maps of the growth and development of ‘Home’, as well as structural improvements that were made to the buildings as time went on. For a history book, the text was surprisingly friendly and informal, with multiple occurrences of funny comments such as the one about the naming of ‘Home’, or whenever some experiment had an undesired but harmless outcome. The fondness of the authors towards these events practically radiated from the page. As they read, Frisk grew increasingly more upset, especially whenever a comment made them smile. 

What had happened that had caused such a shift in the monsters’ nature? Why were they so divided now, living ultimately in fear? The lock of the front door clicked and Toriel came through, her arms full of loose foods. She smiled at Frisk as she did her best to careful place it all on the table. “Did you find something interesting to read, Frisk?”

Frisk closed the book they had opened on the floor in front of them and raised it for Toriel to see. Frisk knew they didn’t imagine the brief falter in her smile, “Oh… Yes, I see why you might be interested in those.”

Frisk picked up their notebook. They didn’t even have to write anything new. They turned to one of their messages to Flowey. ‘What happened?’

Toriel hesitated just as Flowey had. “You shouldn’t have to listen to such a dreary story, little one. How about a lovely book on snails instead?”

Frisk shook their head stubbornly. They weren’t giving up this time. Frisk pointed to the crayon words again. Toriel walked over to her arm chair and sat down with a sigh. Her face became mournful as she ran her eyes over one of the other books that laid open on the floor. Frisk walked over to her, putting their hands up in a silent request. Toriel took them and sat them in her lap. She took a hand in hers. “A-a long time ago,” She began uneasily, “The monsters lived happily under the king and queen. In a strange way, our war with the humans left us in a strong state of solidarity. We looked out for one another, did anything and everything we could to support one another. One day, a human fell into the Underground, in the same way you did. The prince found them collapsed on the cave floor and guided them to his parents. The king and queen welcomed the child with open arms, raising the child themselves.”

She paused as her voice hitched, “Then, one day the human child grew gravely ill. With each day that passed their condition worsened. They came to accept that they weren’t going to recover and developed a hopeless longing to see the golden flowers of their village again. On the day the child died, the prince took the human, absorbed their soul and... ran off onto the surface.”

Toriel’s hands tightened around Frisk, and they watched as tears came to her eyes. Frisk leaned their head against her, waiting patiently for Toriel to steady herself. “The whole kingdom was in unrest, and kept a vigil for the prince’s return. The prince’s desire to take the human was understandable, but no one knew how long it would take to reach the village, nor how much the prince had changed after absorbing the soul. But none of us were expecting him to return on death’s door himself. The humans’ fear and hatred towards monsters was the same as it has always been, even after so many years. The king and queen were with him when he collapsed to dust. Peace itself collapsed with him. The king, Asgore, fell into a savage rage. From that day on he forced a change upon the kingdom. He had degenerated into a blood-thirsty demon, and he was intent on imposing his vengeful mentality on the rest of the monsters. It is his tyranny that has led to the current state of the Underground. Long gone is the king we once knew and loved.”

Tears were now streaming down Toriel’s face. She shook as she struggled to say the last few sentences. Frisk felt terrible for putting Toriel through such anguish. They didn’t realize telling the story would have such a painful effect on her. Frisk threw their arms around her, burrowing their face into her side. Toriel’s own arms closed around them, and they sat like that for a while. 

Reluctantly, Frisk pulled away from Toriel to pick up the notebook. They returned to the chair with their head hung, and wrote into its pages. ‘I’m sorry.’

Toriel cupped their cheek in her hand, “Oh! Frisk, no. My sweet child, you have nothing to apologize for. I would never be upset with you for wanting to how things ended up like this. It’s completely understandable. Here, why don’t I make the two of us another pie? I have the ingredients for one again if you’d like.”

Frisk nodded, and Toriel stood up, patting Frisk’s head as she went back over to the pile of food she had abandoned on the table. Frisk hurried off back to their room. They walked quietly to the dresser Flowey was on and took a seat against it. They let out a sad sigh, resting their chin on their arms. 

The silence of the room was broken by Flowey’s small voice, “Frisk? What’s wrong?”

Frisk’s hands grabbed the nearly filled notebook, they’d have to find another one to write in soon, and opened it to a page. ‘I asked mom about the thing.’

If it was possible, Flowey’s voice grew smaller, “The thing about the royal family?”

Frisk nodded. ‘There were some books on Toriel’s shelves from before that.’ After a few moments they also wrote: ‘I shouldn’t have asked her. She got really sad.’

The room went silent again, but Frisk almost missed what was said when Flowey spoke again. He seemed almost afraid to ask the question. “What did she say?”

Frisk turned to look properly at Flowey. His eyes had teared over, and he was looking at the wall as if he could see Toriel through it. He turned his flower head towards Frisk, but they were yet to move to write anything. Frisk was looking at him with a mixture of concern and confusion. Hopefully on their face the concern showed through more. “I told you didn’t I? I don’t know what actually happened. I woke up and everything was… completely different from what I had known.”

Frisk brought the crayon to the page, writing carefully. They had to paused every now to try to figure out what to write. ‘She told me the king became like a demon after the death of the prince. He wants all the humans dead and for the monsters to be like him so they can get revenge.’

The tears fell freely from Flowey’s eyes. He choked, “Oh.”

Frisk raised to their knees so their eyes were the same level as the dresser. They pulled the boot from the top of it and placed it in their lap. They sat with their arms draped around the boot as Flowey cried, figuring it was best not to write anything at the moment.

Flowey leaned his petals into their shirt, “It’s all might fault.” He sobbed.

Frisk snatched the small notebook and crayon, ‘how could it pos--’

Flowey spoke before they finished writing it down, “They told me they had a plan to free the monsters. I wanted their plan to work, I wanted to make my parents, _everyone_ happy! But, when we got the surface we were attacked. Chara wanted to use our powers against them. It was because I didn’t let Chara fight back that I died! It’s because I didn’t fight back that everything sucks!”

Frisk couldn’t do anything but stare down at Flowey. Most of what he was saying didn’t make the bit of sense to them. ‘What? Are you saying you’re the prince?!’

Flowey saw the page, but didn’t say anything. His petals wilted slightly. ‘Isn’t the prince dead?’

Flowey folded his leaves inward, almost bringing himself into a ball shape. “I _am_ dead Frisk.”

Frisk couldn’t help themself, they poked a petal, causing Flowey to shout, “I’m not a ghost!!! You know this already! I wasn’t a flower when I was alive... I don’t know _why_ I’m a flower! I just suddenly woke up like this! It doesn’t make sense to me either!”

Frisk frowned, ‘does being dead feel weird?’

A small, miserable laugh came from Flowey, “It feels… cold, mostly. Like something inside you is missing and the hole that’s left is frozen over.”

Frisk’s bottom lip quivered. Flowey’s head lifted from Frisk “H-hey! It’s not that big of a deal! I’ve gotten used to it! …... Sort of.”

Frisk leaned back against the dresser, staring at the ceiling. They needed to take a few moments to let it all settle. They had found out a _lot_ in such a short time, and it was a lot to take in.

Then, they abruptly scribbled into the paper, writing with feverish resolve. Flowey squeaked with the sudden movement, keeping balance with a few outstretched vines. Frisk showed the notebook proudly to Flowey. ‘I’m going help!’

Flowey looked at Frisk, “Help? Help what?”

‘Help fix this, DUH!’

Flowey sputtered, “What?! Wh- I--- YOU-- HOW?!!”

‘Well the king was raising a human, right? He must know not humans are bad deep down!’

“But _how_ , Frisk?” Flowey whimpered, “I don’t think he’d be doing all of this if he knew that, deep down or otherwise. I don’t know that there’s anything we _can_ do!”

‘I got to try!’

“You’re going to get yourself _killed_ , Frisk!”

‘You don’t know that!’

Flowey fell silent. Frisk raised the boot back to its spot on the dresser. They stood in front of him and turned around another line for him. ‘I’ll go to Asgore. I’ll try to fix this. It’s a promise.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Keep an eye out for the next update! It'll either be tomorrow or the following day depending on how I decide I want to space out these chapters. There's a lot I already have written. We're still not quite to where I personally believe this story begins to pick up but tell me what you think anyway if you want!


	4. The Heartache of A Grieving Mother

Frisk didn’t mention anything to Toriel about wanting to leave the ruins till the next day. Flowey told them that the door to the rest of the Underground was at the end of the passageway down the stairs. It explained why Toriel didn’t want Frisk anywhere near it. Oh, how they wished they wouldn’t have to tell her. Especially after seeing her cry from simply telling them about Asgore and the other monsters on the other side of the wall. 

It was now somewhere between lunch and dinner. Frisk didn’t have the spirit to bring it up over a meal, but at the same time they didn’t want to wait too long or else they’d be tired by the time they were outside the ruins. Frisk had their backpack and the boot in their hands, turned so that Flowey faced them instead of forward. They would have left Flowey in their room, but going all the way back there to retrieve him would probably be extremely awkward. However, Frisk would need their hands to communicate to Toriel with the notebook, so Flowey would have to be put down somewhere nearby.

They found Toriel in her typical spot in her arm chair. She spent a considerable amount of time reading. Frisk wondered how many of the books on those shelves she had memorized all together. They placed the boot with Flowey in the corner closest to the doorway leading into the room. Flowey swiveled around to give them an encouraging… leaf up, his smile shaky.

Frisk nodded, doing the best they could to prepare themself for what had to come next. They honestly didn’t know how exactly Toriel would take their inquiry, but she wasn’t going to be happy. Frisk wrote down the first question against the wall before they even turned the corner into the room. Toriel looked up from her book as they approached, “Greetings, my child. May I do something for you?”

Frisk swallowed hard and turned the notebook around, their hands shaking violently. Toriel’s smile turned to disbelief as she read the paper. ‘Can I exit the ruins?’

The book was dropped to the floor and she took Frisk’s shoulders. Already, scared tears were forming in her eyes. “Exit the ruins?! Frisk, why on earth would you want to do that? It’s far too dangerous out there!”

Frisk couldn’t bring themself to make up an excuse. And they wouldn’t be able to lie to her, even if they had been able to come up with one. ‘I’ll be okay! I-’ They struggled to keep their hand steady enough to write legible letters, ‘want to talk to Asgore.’

A tear-filled gasp broke from Toriel, “You naive child! You are not the first child to fall since the Underground changed! I was lucky to find you in the ruins when I did. For goodness sakes, some of them never even made it through the ruins! Every human that has fallen here has met the same fate.” She had to stop briefly as a sob came, “I’ve seen it again and again. They will kill you! Don’t you understand? Just.. go back to your room.”

Frisk shrank a little, but wrote: ‘Please.’

“Can’t you see I’m only protecting you? Asgore won’t hesitate to kill you! Please, child! I beg you- go to your room.”

Frisk could hold back their own tears from trickling down their face, their breathing grew heavier. ‘I’ll find a way. I know I can!’

Toriel stood from her chair, forcing Frisk to take a few steps back. She stopped and turned only when she got to the archway, “I will destroy the door if I have to! This is your final warning, child. Do not follow me.” She walked away in a hurry down the stairs.

Frisk went into the entrance and knelt down to Flowey. He too had tears falling from his face, dampening the dirt in the boot beneath him. Neither of them tried to say anything to the other, Frisk simply picked up the flower monster and made their way down the steps.  
Toriel was just standing at the large, intimidating door, almost as if she was waiting for Frisk to arrive. She was staring at the top of the door, her face blank except for the tears that slid down her fur. Her head turned at the sound of Frisk’s footsteps. Frisk gulped and stepped into the room. 

“Do you really want to leave that badly, child?”

Frisk nodded.

“Hmph. Fine. You said to me you would find a way that would get you through the rest of the Underground. Show it to me. Prove to me you won’t just let yourself be killed out there!”

A dozen floating flames ignited around Toriel, casting bright light across the room. Frisk dropped the boot a the doorway and nervously walked closer to the center of the room. They stopped a good eight feet away from her. The first flames shot towards Frisk. Admittedly, they had no idea as to what they could do. So they dodged as best they could, flinging themself down an out of the way. Frisk hardly had time to scramble back to their feet before another wave of flames were thrown at them. Frisk stood their ground, bringing their arms over their face as their only protection. The fire magic enveloped them. It burned their arms and slid their feet across the purple floor. 

“What are you doing?” Toriel cried.

Another burst of magic came towards them. Again Frisk simply let it hit them.

Toriel shook, as she watched them gasp in pain. “Stop it. Fight or go back up stairs!”

Frisk forced themself to swallow the blood that came to their mouth. Their teeth had bitten through the inside of their mouth on the impact. Frisk looked up at Toriel. The monster that looked back at her seemed so sad and lost. Frisk wished they could think of something that would make this easier for her, but they too were at a loss. There was no way they would ever fight her. They just wanted to help. But at the same time they couldn’t turn back. They needed to leave. Frisk took a step closer, their own tears trickling down their face. Another rolling ball of fire struck them. It still hurt, but it didn’t explode on impact as the others had. All intent behind Toriel’s attacks was starting to die away.

“Stop looking at me that way.”

Frisk held Toriel’s gaze, both of them equally teary eyed. Toriel fell to her knees as she reluctantly propelled the next wave. They dissipated like sparklers as they struck Frisk’s arms and cheeks, sizzling against skin and fabric.

“I promise I will take good care of you here. I know we don’t have much but...we can have a good life here. Please! Go upstairs child!”

Frisk took a hesitant step forward.

“Why are you making this so difficult?”

A flickering spark flew harmlessly past Frisk, Frisk’s head turning slightly to watch it go by. They quickly faced Toriel again, worry setting deeper into their face. Toriel’s head hung, her eyes covered by trembling hands. Frisk closed the distance between them, throwing their arms around her. She pulled them to her, head over their shoulder.

“Haha. Pathetic, is it not? I can not save even a single child.”

Frisk couldn’t do anything to tell Toriel that wasn’t true. They wanted desperately to do anything that might cheer the grieving mother, even just a little. All Frisk could do was shake their head into her tunic, clutching her back.

Toriel let out a defeated breath, “If you truly wish to leave the ruins… I will not stop you. However, when you leave… Please do not come back.”

Frisk pulled away just enough to look at her face, her tunic still balled in their hands, “I hope you understand.”

Frisk nodded and wiped their face with a sleeve. They gave one last hug, tightening around her, before she got up. Toriel got up, quickly unlocked the door with a key pulled from the white dress under the tunic, and turned away.

“Goodbye, my child.”

With that, she left, leaving Frisk with guilt twisting at their stomach.They walked back over to Flowey, and sat next to him. Neither made an attempt to communicate, choosing to let the heavy feeling pass them. A warm light, did however, spread across Frisk, their burns fading away from their skin. They gave a thankful smile to Flowey. After Frisk started feeling slightly better they picked up the notebook, ‘you ready?’

Flowey gave an empty chuckle, “Not at all.”

They understood. It was hard to gather up the courage to take those steps towards the huge door. The door felt cold to the touch, the unexpected temperature startled Frisk's hand to draw away momentarily. With a deep breath they pushed hard against the door, the unused hinges creaking with each inch it moved. They slid through door as soon as it was just wide enough, quickly closing it behind them with their back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really excited for the chapter coming tomorrow, A certain angsty trashbag is coming into the story!


	5. Not Your Friendly Neighborhood Skeleton

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This and the next chapter are my favorites so far! I love poor angry, broken UF!Sans.

The breath they had been holding came out as a thin cloud and they stared up at the towering snow-covered trees that were now surrounding them. It was completely different from the space they had just left. If it wasn’t for the pitch black cavernous ceiling high above them, Frisk would have said they had been transported somewhere on the surface. How could there be so much foliage if they were still underground? They were pulled out of their thoughts as a cold draft slid past, biting at their hands and nose. Frisk wished Flowey’s healing magic was capable of mending clothing as well, the burnt holes hindered any protection against the cold their sweater would have otherwise provided. In their hands Flowey shivered, hunkering lower into the boot. It was obvious the chill of this place was getting to him. The eerie static of the snowy forest sent tingles up Frisk’s spine, and they decided they did not want to stand still any longer. The crunch of wet snow beneath them offered some relief to the unnerving silence, but not much. Frisk tried to put some sort of rhythm in their steps as they headed away from the door. Flowey leaned around to look at the door one last time.

“Frisk. I don’t like this plan anymore.” He whined. “W-we should just go back!”

Frisk frowned and firmly shook their head. “Friiiisk, _please_! You’re going to get yourself killed! You don’t know what it’s like out here! There won’t be any weak froggits or wimpy whimsums. There are ruthless killers out here! Monsters who won’t hesitate to kill you! You’ll DIE! You’ll die and you’ll die and---”

Frisk placed a hand on Flowey’s petals, giving him a reassuring smile. They were determined to do what they could to stop the needless violence, and there wasn’t anything that would convince them to go back on that promise. Especially after what had just happened. The image of Toriel on her knees still lingered in their mind, and Frisk felt terrible for it. 

Flowey quieted, putting his focus instead on looking around nervously as Frisk walked. In truth, Frisk _was_ scared. This place was cold, and the eery singing of the wind was putting them on edge. It took every bit of their attention to keep their face straight, and even then they were pretty sure they were failing miserably. But they pressed forward, keeping a steady pace through the trees and heavy snow. The snow was yet another mystery to Frisk, but they supposed it could all be chalked up to magic. At least the dense foliage was a slight reassurance. They could probably dive safely into a bush or behind a large tree if they needed to hide quickly. That is, as long as the monsters didn’t have an acute sense of smell. They would have asked Flowey this, but it would take too long for comfort to fish the notebook from their backpack. Maybe it was for the best that they didn’t know.

A nearby twig snapped, and not by Frisk’s own feet. The two of them both jumped and looked about frantically. Flowey shook violently, looking up at Frisk with teary eyes. Frisk couldn’t look at him, too scared to take their eyes away from the forest. They looked all around them, but there was nothing to be seen in any direction. That did nothing to reassure them. If anything, it made them more tense. Frisk took another careful step forward, hands wrapped tightly around Flowey’s boot. Their arms and face pressed into something plush. Flowey shrieked as Frisk stumbled backwards, losing their hold on the boot. Flowey spilled out onto the snowy terrain, roots and all. The sharp intake of cold air hurt Frisk’s lungs as they gave a silent scream. A low voice chuckled, “What’s the matter?” A weird sensation enveloped Frisk as they felt themself raise from the ground by a red glow, “You lost?”

The figure took a heavy step forward, stepping right up to Frisk’s face. The round skeletal face stared at Frisk with two eyes like glowing red daggers. They raised their trembling hands up, ‘please. I won’t fight y--’. They didn’t get the chance to finish. The skeleton’s red eyes flared, and Frisk was suddenly hurtling backwards through the air.

Their back slammed against the trunk of a tree, causing their vision to flash white with pain. “Frisk!”

Flowey was immediately at their side, casting the healing light around them. Frisk climbed back to their feet, eyes trained on their attacker. He didn’t move, and his red eyes had completely gone out, leaving nothing but two black sockets. Frisk noticed he was breathing heavily. Had Frisk’s signing startled him that much? They were too scared to try again.

The red eyes reappeared in the sockets, a guffaw breaking from a gold toothed smile like nothing had happened, “Oh? You won’t fight me?” His voice fell to a sinister chuckle, “Well then I suppose I should do you a favor. I’ll make this quick for ya’.”

The air crackled and a red glow surrounded them once more. An unseen force pulled Frisk towards the skeleton, their feet only just brushing along the snow. They felt like they were suffocating. Yet, even as Frisk gasped for air they could tell they could still breathe. Each breath was heavy and painful, but they could still breathe. “HEY! Let them go!” Flowey shouted.

The skeleton’s brow raised in amusement and he turned to the flower shaking by the tree. “Oh? What’chya gonna do, bud?”

Huge vines broke the ground around Flowey, the snow erupting in blasts. The skeleton made a noise and took a step back, his hold on Frisk faltered. They dipped in the air with their hands waving wildly at Flowey. Flowey gazed up at Frisk in shock, the vines hesitated and lowered slightly. “Frisk…”

But Frisk shook their head, holding out their hands for Flowey to stop. The skeleton looked up at Frisk in disbelief, but quickly fixed it back to his previous cold expression. He sneered at them, “You _asking_ me to kill you, brat?”

Frisk shook their head. ‘We won’t fight.’ They signed, since apparently the skeleton understood sign language.

“Stop that!” He snapped, “And down here that’s the same thing as a death wish, meathead! Your pal over there has the right idea!”

‘That’s not true. You don’t have to fight.’

“DON’T TELL ME WHAT’S TRUE AND WHAT AIN’T!” He hissed. “Your sorry ass just got here, kid. That useless mentality’s been beaten out of us a LONG time ago! We fight; we live. If ya don’t, you get taken away or killed on the spot!”

‘Taken?’

The skeleton’s eyes flared again and Frisk was slammed against the ground. A heavy foot pressed down on their shoulders, effectively shoving a faceful of snow into Frisk’s face. “Where’d you get the idea this was a fucking ‘Q&A’ session? Just how long is it gonna take for you to realize what kind of situation you’re in right now?!”

Of course, Frisk couldn’t respond, a little preoccupied with the snow that had been stuffed into their mouth. The skeleton leaned over them, inches from their head. “You want to know what’s going to happen? Here, I’ll be kind enough to explain it to ‘ya. I’m gonna drag your ass to the king, and have that pathetic bleeding heart of yours _ripped_. from. your. _body_!”

He stepped off and threw Frisk into the air with a flick of his finger. In another fluid motion Frisk was hurled in the opposite direction. Flowey chased after them, a vine twisting around a bony ankle. Frisk held up a weak hand to again tell Flowey to stop. A small, glowing bone sliced through the vine. Flowey hissed in pain and reluctantly withdrew. The skeleton whirled on Frisk, sending another blast of red energy into them. This time they hit another tree, causing their head to spin. Frisk couldn’t move anything but a hand to their head. They watched as Sans marched slowly but surely towards them, taking his precious time with each step. Flowey hung back where he was, scared and unsure of what to do. 

Another voice suddenly erupted from somewhere else in the woods, breaking the tension that had covered the area like a blanket. “SANS! WHERE ARE YOU?!”

The skeleton, Sans, stopped and flashed a wicked grin at the body on the forest floor, “Hear that, kid? That’s your end.”

“SANS, YOU WORTHLESS PILE OF BONES! YOU’VE ABANDONED YOUR STATION FOR THE LAST TIME!!!”

The grin on Sans’ face faded, replaced by a deep frown. The lights in his eyes dimmed. The marching footsteps grew increasingly louder, and the owner of the voice had obviously caught sight of the shorter skeleton. “TRYING TO SNEAK OUT OF WORK _AGAIN_ , ARE WE? WAS I NOT CLEAR LAST TIME WHAT BEING DISOBEDIENT GETS YOU?”

Something snapped inside the skeleton and at those words he flung Frisk into a bush, out of sight from the other monster. “Crystal.” He growled.

Frisk dared not to move. Even moving their eyes onto the new monster made them worry they would be seen. It didn’t help that Frisk’s crash into the bush had caused the other skeleton to stiffen. Orange magic flared around him, materializing several bone attacks in an instant. His black armor creaked as he looked around with a piercing gaze. Sans muttered under his breath. “SHUT IT!” Snapped the taller skeleton, even though his own voice was volumes louder, “WHAT WAS THAT?”

“It was probably just your shitty paranoia, boss.”

The armored skeleton glared angrily down at Sans, “THAT BEHAVIOUR OF YOURS,” he snapped, “IS PRECISELY WHY NEITHER OF US HAVE BEEN PERMITTED INTO THE ROYAL GUARD.”

“Well, good! Who would want to work with that explosive fish in the first place?! She’s more likely to try to kill us than anything around here!”

“I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU ARE STILL SO DAFT!!! DON’T YOU GET IT? WE WOULD BE _FEARED_ , SANS! AND FEAR,” He grabbed Sans by his furred hood, orange eyes burning with magic, “GETS YOU EVERYWHERE! IT IS BEYOND MY COMPREHENSION HOW YOU AREN’T DUSTED AT THIS POINT!”

“Well _unfortunately_ I haven’t, ALRIGHT?!” He responded, shoving the gloved hands off his jacket. “I know that must be such a HUGE disappointment for ya! BUT HEY, here’s an idea!! If I piss you off so much, JUST DUST ME YOURSELF!!”

Orange surrounded Sans and threw him backwards into the snow, “GET BACK TO YOUR STATION. NOW!” The tall skeleton’s voice had lowered a considerable amount. He left Sans on the ground, hands clench as he stormed back through the trees and out of sight.

Sans climbed back to his feet and briskly brushed the snow off, not a light visible in his eyes. Frisk didn’t move out from the bush, but turned away from the skeleton and shifted the backpack off of their shoulders. Flowey appeared besides them. He looked scared and concerned, but didn’t say anything to Frisk, simply choosing to watch as they opened the bag wide enough to evaluate the condition of the first-aid kit. It was badly dented, but still in one piece. Frisk sighed in relief, and slid it back on… just as they were lifted out of the bush. Flowey gasped, but didn’t do anything besides wither low to the ground. The red glow spun Frisk around to face Sans. “Fine! You know what? I’ll deliver you to the king myself.” He said, though probably more to himself than to them.

‘Are you alright?’ Frisk signed.

Sans made a loud, exasperated noise. “What?! What the fuck is _wrong_ with you?!”

Frisk huffed, ‘nothing’.

Sans glared at Frisk for what felt like forever, but then dropped them to the ground. It wasn’t as rough as the last time he put them into the snow, but it still hurt due to their previous collision with the tree. They stumbled to their feet and stared stubbornly at Sans. 

“Why aren’t you running away?” He snapped.

‘No reason to.’

His frowned deepened, “Why not?”

‘You’d stop me.’

“Hm. But you’ll die if I take you. Aren’t you afraid of dieing?”

Frisk nodded.

“You planning on pulling some sort of stunt when you get to the king’s castle?”

Frisk shook their head, ‘No fighting. Never’.

Sans dug his face into his hands, “You. Are impossible.”

‘I don’t think so,’ Frisk signed back.

Sans stopped at that, and simply stared at Frisk again, his brow bones furrowed. After a length of time he spoke again, “Why _are_ you here?”

Frisk shuffled awkwardly, ‘i ran away. It wasn’t a place I could call home’.

“How’d you get here?”

‘Fell’.

Sans fell silent again. He looked deep in thought, as if trying to figure something out. Frisk was perfectly fine with standing there quietly.

Strange howls rose through the silence of the forest, sending a paralyzing chill through Frisk. They saw Sans’ face go completely blank as well, his eyes lifeless. Frisk’s gaze fell to San’s hands. He was trembling. Flowey popped next to them, his eyes wild in fear. Frisk grabbed Sans’ hands in theirs, looking desperately into his face. His red eyes back to awareness and he locked eyes with Frisk. “We need to get out of here.” He whispered. “ _now_!”

Frisk scooped up Flowey, snow and all, and slid him into the backpack. Sans immediately had Frisk by the arm and the air around them crackled violently. Frisk felt lightheaded and disoriented as the world around them suddenly blurred away in waves of red. When they were released by the magic Sans spun around frantically, searching the forest. Though they were obviously not in the same spot in the forest as before, nothing could be seen. The howls, however, were louder. “Where the fuck is he?” Sans said to himself, fear choking his voice.

Again Frisk was hit with the electrified magic and their former dizziness turned into nausea. They kept it together though, focusing intently on the black fabric of Sans’ jacket. Once more the world materialized around them, the trees were thinner here. This time, a worried shout escaped Sans as he looked wildly about them, “PAPYRUS?!”

Frisk buried their head into Sans’ shirt as they felt the air crackle with his magic again, hoping hiding their vision would lessen the effect of the teleportation on them. They lifted their head when they felt their feet touch down on solid ground once more. They were in a clearing in the woods now, with what looked like hundreds of piles of snow scattered all around them. Frisk realized as they look past Sans that they weren’t just poffs of snow, it was snow that had been kicked up by huge... paws? Or was it just huge blobs of mass? Behind Sans, a dripping, disfigured form was mid-leap upon them.

Frisk pushed Sans’ side with all their might, succeeding in forcing him to take a few stumbling steps out of the way. Frisk threw their arms up to shield their face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dundun duuun. Next update will be in two days, because I love taking advantage of cliffhangers


	6. A Fragile Exterior

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're going to see a little bit from Sans' perspective too this chapter. The angry skeleton is not so cold and collected as he seems.

The gesture was absolutely useless. The thing didn’t have any teeth as Frisk had been expecting, instead, its head barrelled into them, covering their arms in a black sludge that burned through their clothes and ate away at the skin. Tears immediately slid down Frisk’s face, their mouth open wide in pain. Huge white paws planted forcefully against Frisk’s chest, pinning them to the ground. 

The gaps between its many legs, Frisk found out, were also solid masses, and these did have teeth. Small jagged ones that tore into Frisk with savage ferocity. Frisk’s hands shook as they forced them to raise. They couldn’t see anything, the thick ooze was dripping onto their face from the deformed creature’s gaping hole. Frisk’s hands found their way blindly into the fur and they did the only thing they knew how with any dog-like creature. They pet it, just behind the ears. The vicious tearing of the smaller heads stopped, and the amalgamite tensed in confusion.

Bones struck its side in that moment, sending it tumbling off of Frisk. Frisk wiped at their eyes, trying to clear it of the black sludge. They fought desperately to their feet, thankful for the glow of Flowey’s healing magic that surrounded them, even though they were unaware of where exactly he was. Frisk was already racing towards Sans. His whole body was shaking as he watched the monstrous figure’s gaze lock onto him, an ear-piercing sound emitting from some unknown source on its body. 

The creature’s head swivelled towards Frisk, who was running and clapping for its attention. But to Frisk’s fright it was still bounding towards Sans. Their legs screamed under them, the unstable footing of the snow a constant threat as they scrambled towards the beast and skeleton. Panic was coursing through their body. Quickly running out of options, Frisk dove for the closest stick they saw and waved it high in the air. Realizing what they were doing, a whistle came from Flowey behind them. The amalgamite stopped dead in its tracks, orifice trained on the stick. Its head cocked curiously and it took a few steps towards Frisk.

Frisk noticed as Sans’ flared his magic again, and mouthed a silent plea to stop him. Their hand could hardly keep hold of the stick it was shaking so badly. Flowey’s healing had been brief, their skin was still burning from the oily substance that clung to them. Frisk felt themself shake even more as the creature drew close, creepily staring at Frisk somehow with its dripping hollowed-out face. It stopped, its face way too close to Frisk’s for comfort. Frisk winced as more sprays of the fluid splashed onto their face, but was able to bring a trembling hand to pat the top of its head. A paw jabbed into Frisk’s stomach, knocking them backwards.

Frisk was thankful they didn’t fall and even patted the paw that had left them wheezing for air. Feeling their energy ebbing away, Frisk waved the stick one last time, as much as they could manage. With a final, desperate movement they threw the stick as far as the could away from all of them. The amalgamite howled and chased after it as the world spin out from under Frisk.

\---

Sans was immediately upon Frisk, scooping up Frisk into his arms before they could fall face first from the momentum of the throw. His magic had brought the backpack and the kid’s plant friend from the snow and as soon as they were all to him the crackling sensation surrounded them. However, He didn’t let the place fade around them just yet. Instead the magic built and expanded, the electricity becoming almost physical sparks. He watched the amalgamite with careful eyes. The stick was already sticking out of its gaping maw, quickly sizzling and melting from the sludge. The thing was bounding towards them again, its howl audible even through the crackle of magic. “Shit. Shit! SHIT!” Sans willed his magic to build faster, “Come on! JUST A LITTLE BIT MORE!”

He was shouting at the top of his lungs now, flaring his magic with all his might. He _had_ to make the jump all the way to the inside of his house. It was the only way. Who knew how many more jumps he could carry all of them through if he didn’t, and... He gazed down at Frisk. Shit, they were unconscious. None of them were in any condition to face against another Endogeny. 

The last thing he wanted to do was return to the house without finding Papyrus first. Papyrus didn’t have the same teleportation power Sans had, and they had not been close enough to the house for him to have made it there already by foot. But he had no choice now. They had to get to the safety now, or they would _all_ be dead. At the last second he calculated that it was enough for the jump and released the magic so it could do its thing.

Huge jumps like these were completely draining for Sans, and they weren’t exactly as smooth as they usually are. Sans lost his stability as they flew, causing a crash landing as the magic finally brought them to the house. He shielded Frisk, knowing what was coming. Yet, the table he expected to explode against his back didn’t come, even though he heard it shatter, and when he felt the impact of the wall, it felt oddly cushioned. He grunted as he pulled himself to his knees looking to see what it was between him and the wall. 

They were vines. A small voice wheezed besides him, “How _stupid_ do you have to be to try to shield someone when you only have 1hp!”

Sans stared at the flower, who wasn’t looking to good between between fighting off the amalgamite when it had tackled Frisk and crash landing into the house. “What?!” 

Sans’ voice was angrier than he intended, but he supposed it was just habit. The flower monster flinched and turned away nervously. “It’s...uh... an ability of mine.”

Well that must be a fucking useful ability, Sans thought bitterly. That was dangerous information the flower had now, and it certainly wasn’t something Sans wanted _anyone_ to know. It would make him everyone’s target. He grabbed the flower by the stem, “Not a word to ANYONE about this, you hear me, you _weed_?!” He paused, his hurt pride kicking in as well, “And I would have been FINE!”

The yellow monster nodded, intimidated, but his face also showed signs of understanding, maybe even... sympathy? Sans tossed him down in anger. He didn’t want the plant’s damn sympathy. A quiet hiss caught his attention. Sans froze; Something was sizzling against his jacket. He looked down at the kid in his arms. The sight he was met with wrenched at his core. Their whole lower half was practically coated with blood, their blue shorts now muddied with a reddish brow hue. What wasn’t drenched in blood was sizzling with the black ooze of the Endogeny. The excess sludge was spilling over them and onto the sleeves of his jacket. His jacket was thick for that exact reason, but if he waited too much longer it would soon melt through the magically strengthened fabric. He cursed and stumbled to his feet, the flower monster just barely managing to dive out of the way as he hurried towards the flight of stairs. 

Sans threw his body against the bathroom door and lowered the unconscious kid carefully into the tub. He hesitated slightly before brushing aside the unnecessary embarrassment that rose inside of him. Even so, he muttered an unheard apology as he carefully cut away the tattered shirt and shorts with a small magical bone. He turned on the water of the shower head, making sure their head was positioned so they weren’t intaking too much water through their nose. He also rinsed off what had gotten onto himself, dismissing the discomfort of wearing heavy, wet clothes. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the flower looking worriedly into the room from the doorway. “Make yourself useful and fetch me some clothes! The door is right behind you!” He barked.

The flower slithered obediently across the hall. “The door’s locked!” It shouted.

“Would I really care about that right now?!” He snapped, but didn’t give the flower the chance to cut down the door as he quickly added, “WAIT!”

He felt for the lock on the other side of the door with his magic and turned the lock. He listened to the bedroom door opening as he began to work on gingerly moving Frisk’s limbs to get rid of the few pieces of ooze that stuck underneath their arms and back. His mind drifted out of focus as he moved methodically, _what would he do when Papyrus got back? How the fuck would he explain this? What the fuck was he even going to do with the kid? Was he really just going to drop them off at Asgore’s doorstep after all this? What if Papyrus was...Fuck. There was no way, right? But what if... Fuck. Fuck. Fuck! FUCK!_

His head fell to his arms. What was he going to do? He had never felt so much at a loss before. Wait. His eyes peered at the human’s face. It was all their fault. They had thrown him off guard! Frisk had pushed him to hide them from his brother. Why else had he hid them? It must of been their fault. If he had just shown the kid to his brother they would have been heading back together when those _things_ came. If it weren’t for them showing up he and his brother would have made it together. They always did. But Frisk had startled Sans when the howls started, they had tricked him into using a shortcut. He probably could have found Papyrus if he had simply run off after him, leaving the kid and the stupid flower in the snow.

A ghost image of Frisk’s worried face appeared over their unconscious one. They had saved him. The kid had pushed him out of the way and taken the hit of the amalgamate. They had no magic and not a single weapon to protect themself with, and they had faced the amalgamate. If Sans hadn’t been looking at the aftermath of all of it he would have said it had been a dream. He looked at them with a defeated sigh. Man, they were in rough shape. It was a miracle they weren’t dead. The kid had pet the abomination, _subdued_ its attacks! It was he who fucked up. It wasn’t the damn kid’s fault Sans had teleported, they had only been terrified. They trusted Sans! Sans gave a bitter laugh into his jacket. Up until then the only thing he had done was attack them and they _trusted_ him! Sans felt like the biggest pile of shit for blaming the poor kid. His shoulders shook. No tears came to his eyes, though he felt pretty damn close to it. He had no remembrance of the last time he cried, and he wasn’t about to start. He had grown tougher than that, but that didn’t keep his body from shaking. Whether this was better or worse than letting frustrated tears come Sans didn’t know. What was he going to do? That same, terrifying thought returned, overwhelming him: would he ever see Papyrus again?

It took a while before he managed to recollect himself. When he finally did so he lifted his head and slowly moved to turn off the water. A pile of clothes laid on the floor in his peripheral. Well wasn’t that just peachy? On top of everything that had just happened the goddamn flower not only knew his hp was shit he was but had just witnessed his breakdown there. He was half tempted to burn the plant to smithereens... if the thing hadn’t been travelling with the kid…. And if the flower hadn’t also possibly saved his life moments ago. There was that too.

Sans’ clothes that had been fetched practically swallowed up the kid, so he only chose to throw the shirt over them. It would be enough for now. He would get better clothes for them later. He didn’t let himself think too much about what he might have to do to get them. Sans carried the kid to his room. If.. no.. _When_ Papyrus came back, this was the only room Papyrus wouldn’t find them. It wasn’t often he barge into Sans’ room. Not unless he had overslept. Sans made a mental note to somehow figure out a way to keep that from happening. Going without sleep probably wasn’t a good idea, but he’d figure something out.

The flower monster had been waiting by the top of the stair behind the banister, turning only when he heard Sans walking towards the room. He followed Sans in. The only thing left to do was to figure out where to put the kid. He frowned, not to happy with his decision, but placed Frisk on his bed. He’d sleep against the wall or something. Maybe it was for the better, anyway. It might make it easier to wake up to the sound of Papyrus entering through the house. 

Sans let out a tired sigh and slid to a sitting position against the wall. God, he was tired. He wanted desperately to watch out the window for his brother, but he knew he couldn’t. It would be a sign of fear, a sign of _weakness_. And even if no one sees it, his brother would give him hell for it. You know, when he came back and all. Sans closed his eyes, hoping everything might be alright when he woke up.


	7. The World's a Little Too Cruel For Him Not to Care

Sans didn’t get the chance to fall asleep. A loud crash came from downstairs as the door slammed open. “SANS! FRONT AND CENTER!” Papyrus shouted. Sans cast a quick glance at Frisk, who had the flower hovering over them, a slow stream of healing magic flowing from the plant to the human. He wasted no more time, jumping to his feet and yanking the door opened, “Well it’s about time you showed your ugly face!” Sans snapped, walking towards the railing.

Papyrus’ head whipped up from looking at the shattered table to the top of the stairs, but to Sans’ surprise, he said nothing. All worry drained from Sans as he watched him instead move towards the kitchen. Sans scowled and flew down the stairs, “What? Disappointed I didn’t get nabbed by one of the freaks out there?”

Papyrus tensed and glared at Sans, “I DON’T CARE FOR THAT ATTITUDE OF YOURS, SANS.”

Sans guffawed, “Attitude? Oh, well pardon me, _boss_. I’ll be sure to change it exactly to your liking!”

“GOOD! THEN PERHAPS YOU WOULD START BY CLEANING UP THAT MESS YOU GRACEFULLY LEFT IN THE FOYER!”

Sans spun on his heels and kicked a piece of broken wood on his way back to the stairs to spite his brother. What had he been doing, worrying about Papyrus? Sans froze when his eyes landed on Frisk standing on the stairs. The flower monster was pulling on their baggy shirt, trying to convince them to get back up the stairs. Sans noticed they looked a lot better than before, their plant friend had done well in healing them. ‘You worried him’, they signed.

Sans sputtered and quickly swept the two of them up the stairs. He threw them into the room, slamming the door behind him. He signed angrily at Frisk, not risking Papyrus overhearing him. His hands fumbled a little from lack of practice, but the message still came out clearly. ‘What the hell do you think you’re doing? He could have seen you!’

‘I heard shouting.’

Sans rolled his eyes. ‘Yeah. We do that a lot... All the time, actually. Get used to it.’

Frisk frowned, ‘he really did sound worried.’

‘Were we listening to the same person? Didn’t seem fucking worried to me.’

Frisk creased their eyebrows in confusion, forming two v-shapes and tapped their hands together as Sans had done.

Sans chuckled quietly. This kid. “Fucking.” He whispered.

Sans took pleasure in the look of shock that suddenly came over the flower’s face besides them. Sans realized the small plant monster had no clue what was being said between the two of them. He winked, causing the flower to throw small, exasperated vines into the air. Frisk, on the other hand, seemed ultimately unfazed.‘Oh, okay.’

They paused, which Sans figured was them trying to remember what they were about to say. Their hands continued, ‘he sounded different than he did in the forest.’

Sans let out an annoyed huff, leaning back against the door ‘how so?’

‘His words were forced.’

Sans faltered. Had they really? He averted his gaze and grunted, ‘well, whatever. It doesn’t matter.’

‘I think it does.’

‘Yeah well a lot of what you think isn’t true. This is one of those times.’

Frisk pouted and crossed their arms, clearly unhappy. Sans, however, decided to take their silence as a victory on his half. Sans abandoned the door for a seat on his bed. ‘Might as well make yourself comfortable. You’re probably stuck here for a while, and I’m not planning on going down there anytime soon.’

That hadn’t really been an invitation for Frisk to join him, but they did, climbing up the end of the bed. They crossed their legs on the bed and offered a curious smile, ‘How come you understand sign language?”

Sans sighed. Great, yet another topic he didn’t really want to delve into. ‘My father used it.’ He signed as fast as he could manage, wanting to get it over with.

‘Then Papyrus knows it too?’

‘Well, yeah. Don’t get any dumb ideas, though. He won’t take the time to talk to you.’

‘You did.’

Sans muttered under his breath, ‘Yeah, and I’m starting to regret it. Look, you caught me off guard okay?’

Frisk startled in some sort of realization and signed, ‘thank you.’

Sans scoffed, ‘for what?’

‘For everything! You saved me from those things back there, and you did this.’ They tugged on their lent shirt.

Frisk was way too naive and was going to get themself killed, but man, if their kindness wasn’t a fucking breath of fresh air for Sans. Everything about them was considerate and genuine. All traces of that was gone in the Underground. It felt so weird to Sans, and it frustrated him to no end. Besides him, Frisk’s nose scrunched up, ‘what smells bad?’

Sans took a deep breath. There was a strong burning smell, mixed in with a bunch of ingredients that clashed horribly with one another. He chuckled, ‘that would be my brother’s cooking. Terrible, isn’t it? I gotta put up with that smell every day’.

‘Is the food even edible?’

‘Hell no.’

The sound of heavy steps coming up the stair covered over Frisk’s airy laugh. Sans froze and put up a hand for them to stop, eyes trained on the door.

His brother pounded on the door, “SANS! COME DOWN AND EAT! I KNOW YOU HAVE ENERGY TO REGAIN AFTER USING THOSE UNNECESSARY SHORTCUTS! WE DON’T NEED YOUR LACK OF ENERGY DRAWING CURIOUS EYES TOMORROW!”

Frisk smiled at Sans, ‘See? Concerned.’

Sans glared, ‘that’s not concern, its assuring I won’t cause him trouble.’

Frisk sighed, ‘Sans...’

Sans was about to reply to them when his brother pounded louder on the door, “SANS!!! OPEN THE DOOR THIS INSTANCE!” 

Sans looked between the door and Frisk. He didn’t think he’d have to deal with this so soon. There wasn’t really anywhere Frisk could hide in here. Frisk, however, crawled across mattress and started trying to wedge themself between the bed and the wall. It might not work if Papyrus actually came in, but it was probably their best option. He realized he had to respond to Papyrus or else he would be in real trouble, “Yeah, yeah. Keep your fucking head on, I’m getting up!” He growled.

He slid the bed slightly to allow Frisk and the plant to actually get between the two, then shoved back in place. 

Deciding it was as good as it would be he went over to the door and opened it. Papyrus had his hands planted firmly on his hips, his annoyed frown rather similar to the one on Sans’ face. Sans shoved past his brother and marched down the stairs. Sans was about to enter the kitchen, “STOP.” Papyrus ordered.

Sans slowly turned back towards his brother, who locked his arm in the direction of the broken table “THE TABLE.”

Seeing that he wasn’t getting himself out of this one, he began to gather the pieces of wood in his hands. As he lifted one piece from a pile of debri a heap of familiar fabric showed through. Sans was too slow, Papyrus already had the backpack raised above his hands, holding it by two long fingers as if it was some old lady’s soiled undergarments. “WHAT. IS. THIS?”

Sans sparked his magic and tore it from Papyrus’ grip. “I found it just before the amalgamites were released. ‘Must of carried it with me accidentally.”

Papyrus lifted Sans by the shirt, “YOU FOUND AN OBJECT FROM THE HUMAN WORLD DEEP WITHIN THE FOREST, AND FAILED TO INFORM ME OF ITS EXISTENCE?!”

“So I had other things on my mind! Sue me!”

“HAND IT OVER, SANS! I SHALL INVESTIGATE ITS CONTENTS AT ONCE!”

Sans shifted the bag further away from the taller skeleton. Papyrus’ eyes narrowed to slits, “WHAT. DO YOU THINK. YOU’RE DOING?”

“‘Finders, keepers’, bro. It’s mine.”

“SUCH A POLICY DOESN’T EXIST IN THIS HOUSEHOLD!!! NOW GIVE. IT. TO. ME!” He said through clenched teeth.

“No.”

Sans planted a kick to Papyrus’ body plate, forcing him to release his hold on him. He immediately rushed upstairs and locked himself into the room. He threw the bag in front of Frisk, who looked at it with wide eyes and pulled it to them. Sans swore as the door bulged against him as his brother pounded angrily. Frisk tried their best to hunker as low as they could behind the mattress. If Papyrus burst into the room after Sans and the bag it wouldn’t take him long to notice the unusual gap between it and the wall. Not to mention one of the straps of the bag was now sticking out. Sans groaned, this was the second time today he had fucked up royally.

An orange bone blew threw the door knob, lock and all, clear off the wooden door. Sans let out a pissed ‘HEY!’ at his brother. Apparently Papyrus wasn’t above damaging the house today.

Sans may be heavier than the average skeleton but he was no match for his brother’s physical strength, and Sans hit the wall adjacent to the door. He rubbed the front of his face, and spat at Papyrus’ boot. Papyrus was seething but ignored the finger Sans flipped at him, intent on finding the bag. When he saw Sans no longer had it he turned his gaze to the rest of the room. Within seconds he spotted the strap and marched over there. Papyrus froze when he was close enough to tower above the bed. Two scared pairs of eyes stared back at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry the update's slightly later than expected. No real excuse for it, I just got distracted with other things. On the other hand, this is actually the last chapter I have pre-written and even then I don't think I read through this as thoroughly as some of the other chapters. If you spot any mistakes or awkward sentences feel free to point them out. This also means that updates will most likely be every week or two now. I hope you guys enjoying it so far!


	8. A Brother Only Does What it Takes to Keep Them Alive

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait, I am going to be putting more focus on writing this story, so hopefully the next update won't be AS long of a wait.

Frisk flinched as the tall skeleton stiffened. His piercing eyes drilled into them, sending cold fear down their spine. “SANS. WHAT. AM. I. LOOKING AT?!”

Sans didn’t respond, he too seemed to be frozen in place. The stand-still only lasted a brief second though, as the armored skeleton broke free from the spell that held him. A glove hand lifted Frisk by back of the shirt, which pulled against their neck. They gasped and tugged at the front to lessen the pressure to their jugular. Sans panicked, “Papyrus! STOP!”

Papyrus’ head snapped to Sans in surprise, “WHAT?”

Sweat beaded down Sans’ skull as Papyrus took a threatening step towards him, “DID YOU JUST GIVE _ME_ AN _ORDER_?!”

Sans’ eyes locked with Frisk’s scared ones and something seemed to change inside of him. His face became calmer and more determined, “Yeah, I did. Put. Them. DOWN.”

Papyrus eyed the human in his hand. Frisk couldn’t stop the trembles that coursed through them as the two orange lights glared into them. Papyrus hummed thoughtfully, “I SEE. I THOUGHT MY BROTHER’S BEHAVIOUR WAS RATHER… ODD... TODAY. SO, YOU’VE PUT SOME SORT OF MIND-CONTROL ON HIM. CLEVER, VERY CLEVER, HUMAN. HOWEVER!! I SHALL PUT AN END TO YOUR POWER.”

He threw Frisk down and summoned a circle of bones around him. Frisk scrambled to their feet. They waved furiously at Papyrus, ‘wait! Please!’

A bone fly towards their face, and they just barely moved out of the way. The bone grazed the side of their cheek, leaving a burned path. Frisk’s hands flew, trying to sign as fast as they could before another attack could shoot towards them. ‘Humans can’t use magic!’

Papyrus raised a scarred brow bone, spinning a glowing attack over his hand, “HA! NICE TRY, BUT YOUR LIES WON’T WORK ON ME, SLIMY HUMAN.”

Frisk sat down, legs crossed, and looked up at Papyrus. They held up their hands as if to reassure Papyrus nothing was in them. The gesture was still wasted though. Another bone shot towards them, and this time Frisk didn’t move. It struck them square in the shoulder. By the wall Sans winced, “Kid…”

Frisk turned, ‘it’s okay.’ They signed, though it wasn’t very convincing with one of their eyes closed from the pain. Papyrus looked between the human and the two other monsters in the room.

Papyrus closed in on Frisk, bending over with his hands on his hips, “WHAT ARE YOU PLAYING AT HUMAN? YOU WON’T LAST MUCH LONGER AGAINST MY ATTACKS,YOU KNOW. TRYING TO FACE THEM HEAD ON IS FOOLISH!”

An idea came to them. They struggled to hide a smile, forcing their face to remain looking pained. Lucky for them it wasn’t too hard, as the attack really did feel like an explosion in their shoulder. Frisk grabbed at their shoulder and doubled over, only looking back up after a few seconds. They even made sure to sign slower this time, making it look like they were struggling to sign the words, ‘You’re right. You’re way too strong for me. I don’t stand a chance. ’

Something prideful flashed in his eyes. Papyrus stood straighter, and a smile threatened to come through. “HMMM… EASILY DEFEATED I SEE. YES… IT IS GOOD THAT YOU UNDERSTAND RESISTANCE IS FUTILE. UNLIKE MY BROTHER, YOU WILL FIND THAT _I_ AM NOT SO EASILY SUADED BY DECEPTION AND TRICKERY! IT WAS A GOOD ATTEMPT THOUGH, HUMAN. YOU HAVE MY RESPECT AS A STRATEGIST.”

He turned to Sans, “SANS! THOUGH YOU HAVE FAILED TO RESIST THE HUMAN’S TACTICAL PERSUASION I SHALL HAVE YOU KEEP AN EYE ON THEM UNTIL I RETURN. DO _NOT_ LET THEM OUT OF YOUR SIGHT!!! I MUST PREPARE THE SHED FOR INTERROGATION.”

He peered down at Frisk and Flowey, “I SHALL RETURN FOR YOU TWO SHORTLY.” And with that marched out of the room.

Frisk watched him go, their heart still pounding in their chest. A skeletal hand fell on their head, “Frisk.” He said, at a loss of breath from the previous tension, “How you managed to pull that off is fucking beyond me. You sure ‘ya don’t got mind control powers?”

Frisk gave a shaky smile, ‘Only if you count flattery as mind control.’

Sans snorted, “Well it certainly went to his head, that’s for sure.”

Frisk’s eyes brightened, Sans’ joke bringing a wider smile to their face. A certain other monster, however, was not as amused. Flowey pulled himself anxiously from behind the mattress, “Is this really a time to be making jokes? What exactly is he planning to do during this ‘interrogation’?!”

Frisk looked up at Sans, who merely shrugged, “I’m sure you already get the idea of what’s coming. He’ll drill some questions into ya and you’d best give him an answer he likes. If you don’t, well, I hope you still got some healing magic left in ya.”

Flowey gulped, “Frisk...Are you really okay with this?!”

Frisk stopped and pulled themself over to where their backpack laid, reaching in for the small notebook. A mess of soggy paper and crayon fragments came out in their hands. They looked at Flowey apologetically. Frisk offered a simple nod to his question. They were feeling more confident about confronting the taller skeleton. At least they now they had made the first critical steps towards getting on Papyrus' better side. Their nod certainly wasn’t enough to comfort Flowey though. His head sank, “We should have stayed in the ruins.”

Frisk scowled and shook their head fiercely. They were yet to regret making their promise. They had even gotten help from another monster out here! If that wasn’t a sign they were doing the right thing, they weren’t sure what would count. Sans looked at them curiously, “What’s in the ruins?”

Flowey tensed, but Frisk gestured for him to relax, ‘There was a strong monster who helped us. She was really nice and cared for us a few days!’

Sans stared at them as if they had just spouted nonsense. His eyes fell into a wary glare. “So why the hell’d you leave?”

‘I found out things weren’t always like this. I want to try to help.’

Sans sneered, bringing a threatening foot down. “HELP?! What, you think shooting baby doll eyes at monsters is gonna solve ANYTHING?!”

Frisk’s shoulders slackened. Sans threw his hands angrily into air, “We’re all fucked up, Frisk! Ain’t nothing you can do about it! What you planning on doing when you get to Asgore, huh? Tell him you know there’s ‘goodness’ in his heart?! HA! You’re right, we weren’t always like this! And you know why we’re all like this _now_? Because all that ‘mercy’ and ‘compassion’ we were made up of only succeeded in getting ourselves _killed_!”

Frisk’s fingers clenched around their shirt. They looked up at Sans with watery eyes. He snapped his head away from Frisk with a tsk. After seconds passed in silence, and Frisk didn’t make a move to say anything, he turned again towards them. “So what’ya gonna do, kid?”

‘As much as I can.’

Sans closed his eyes in a sigh, “Determined little shit.” He muttered.

Frisk, however, couldn’t deny the fact that Sans had a point. Surely there must have been some monsters who had tried to help either Asgore or the monsters around them. Frisk needed to come up with a solid plan at some point. Luckily for them, they still had time to figure things out. In the meantime, Frisk could try to befriend a certain pair of skeleton brothers, and they had already taken the first steps. They smiled up at Sans who huffed and looked away again, “You don’t have a damn thing to be smiling about.”

Frisk rolled their eyes and turned their attention to Flowey. Over the course of Sans’ outburst, he had withdrawn back to the corner of the bed. Yet again they wanted to say something to him, ask him if he was okay, but they couldn’t. Either they needed new writing equipment or Sans would have to translate for them. Something told them Sans didn’t have the patience to do anything like that. Frustration was building inside them. Maybe Sans would at least help them get something to replace their notebook and crayons. The motion of them standing was enough to pull his attention back. ‘Do you have paper and something the write with?’

“Why?” 

They pointed to Flowey before moving their hands. ‘I can’t speak to Flowey like this.’

That caused Sans to snort and he looked past Frisk at the flower monster. Flowey squeaked at the unexpected attention.“You’re name’s Flowey?!”

“Well...uh… yeah? What about it?”

“What about it?!” Sans laughed, “ ‘Flowey’ the fucking flower monster. Man, there are a few stupid names down here, but that might just take the cake.”

Flowey bristled, “That’s not true! Plus.. How many names could you possibly know?!”

Sans shrugged and fell silent, eyes cast downward in contemplation. He looked back at Frisk, “Sure, I suppose I can find you something. But, I’ve still gotta keep an eye on the two of you, so you’ll have to wait till after till Paps collects you for ‘interrogation’. I’ll have something for you afterwards.” He cast a sly grin at Flowey, “That is, if you’re still alive.”

Flowey looked at Frisk with pleading eyes. Frisk shrugged dismissively, knowing Sans was only trying to terrorize Flowey now. They startled when the door slammed from downstairs. Sans stretched and brought his hands behind his head, “Looks like time’s up. Better get a move on.”

Sans ushered the two of them down the stairs to where Papyrus was putting down two boxes from the shed beside the door. Papyrus gestured Sans over. “IN ORDER TO AVOID SUSPICION FROM OTHERS YOU’LL HAVE TO TELEPORT THE HUMAN AND… PLANT… TO THE SHED. ALSO, I WANT A BOX OF CANS BROUGHT TO THE SHED SO IT LOOKS LIKE THESE TRIPS ARE SOLELY FOR THE PURPOSE OF BRINGING SUPPLIES INTO THE HOUSE. CAN YOU MANAGE THAT?” He snapped.

Sans rolled his eyes. “Yeah, _boss_ , I can manage that.”

“GOOD. I EXPECT YOU TO MEET ME IN THE SHED IN NO LESS THAN TWO MINUTES.”

Sans groaned but nodded, and Papyrus stormed out of the house again. Sans stalked into the kitchen, the sound of wood cabinet doors opening and closing rising from the other room. He came back with a small box filled to the top with cans he grumbled, kicking one of the bigger boxes Papyrus had brought in with an irritated huff. “Don’t see why the hell i couldn’t just bring one of these _back_ into the shed, but _noooo_ , he’s gotta have a completely new box.” He turned to Frisk, “Alright, kid. We’re going.”

Frisk nodded and took a step closer to Sans. The air around them crackled and snapped out of focus in a blur of red, dropping them seconds later in the middle of the shed’s floor. Papyrus was waiting with arms crossed against the wall. Sans shoved the box into his hands.

Papyrus seemed pleased, “GOOD, GOOD. NOW RETURN TO THE HOUSE TILL I’M DONE HERE. I SHALL HAVE INSTRUCTIONS FOR YOU AFTERWARDS DEPENDING ON HOW THIS UNFOLDS.” He gave a quick gauging glance towards Frisk.

Sans didn’t give a response to that, simply regathering his magic about him again and ‘popping’ away. It was the first time Frisk saw him do a jump without them, leaving them staring in awe at the place he had been. Papyrus cleared his throat and pointed with a demanding finger for them to sit. They did so, resting Flowey in their lap.

Papyrus pushed the box of cans onto a rickety hanging shelf, moving his head to glare at them over his shoulder. "LET’S CUT TO THE CHASE, HUMAN.” He took a few authoritative paces away from the shelf, “FIRST OF ALL, HOW IS IT YOU CAME HERE?"

Frisk had to wait till he turned to face them. ‘I fell’, they signed.

He rolled his eyes, stepping closer to where they were sitting. "WELL, YES, I UNDERSTAND _THAT_." He hissed, "I MEANT HOW DID YOU MAKE IT HERE? WHAT WEAPONS DO, OR DID, YOU HAVE?"

Frisk shook their head, ‘No weapons.’

His eyes narrowed, and his eyes searched about them as if expecting to see a hidden weapon. "YOU MEAN TO TELL ME YOU FOUGHT YOUR WAY HERE THROUGH HAND-TO-HAND COMBAT? QUITE FRANKLY, I FIND THAT HARD TO BELIEVE." He looked with judgment at the small hands that waited patiently in the air for him to finish speaking.

‘No. I didn't fight.’

Papyrus snorted, "THAT’S ABSURD. IF YOU DIDN’T FIGHT, HOW COULD YOU STILL BE STANDING--err-- _SITTING_ HERE? UNLESS..."

He stopped, remembering something. "Ahhh, YES. I FORGOT. YOUR MIND-CONTROL POWERS. THAT MUST BE QUITE THE THE ABILITY YOU HAVE- TO BE ABLE TO SUCCESSFULLY MANIPULATE YOUR WAY ALL THE WAY HERE. "

Frisk's mouth tightened into a tight line, starting to feel frustrated with Papyrus' stubborn 'mind-powers' conclusion. ‘I promise you, I can't mind-control people...or monsters. I can't use magic.’

Now it was his turn to become frustrated. He bent over almost impressively low to bring his face intimidatingly close to theirs, hand tugging on the collar of the shirt. "THEN EXPLAIN TO ME HOW YOU ENDED UP IN MY BROTHER’S ROOM!"

Frisk took a moment to try to gather the words. They needed to be careful with what they chose to say. The wrongs words would direct more of Papyrus' anger towards Sans if he decided Sans had been soft and incompetent. ‘I told Sans I wouldn't fight, that I want to help monsters. He continued attacking, but when the...big black goopy things’

"AMALGAMITES" Papyrus confirmed with a tense nod, letting go of the shirt.

Frisk's hands twitched, confident there was no possible way they would be able to spell that. Papyrus actually sat down across from them, his anger pacified by interest in Frisk’s story. ‘When they attacked we both panicked and I ended up getting transported with him as he looked for you, but at one point an...Almal...gimite..was right where we landed and it leapt for Sans.’

Frisk paused as Papyrus winced, and wondered how long his breath had been caught. However, he straightened immediately and Frisk scrambled to continue signing before he could lash out at them to make up for the lapse in his hostile front.

‘I pushed him out of the way in time, and it hit me instead, and I got cut up a lot by the bunch of heads in its.... shadows…’

Their hands clung around the fabric of the shirt that hung over their legs, the feeling and pain of their skin tearing too fresh in their mind. They were finding it difficult to relay the story back when it was so hard to understand the creature's appearance in the first place.

Papyrus tried to piece it together himself, "SO SANS KNOCKED IT OFF YOU, IN TURN FOR HELPING HIM?”

‘Well, he did strike it to get it off me, but after I actually got it to stop. It paused when I pet it.’

The look on Papyrus' face was one of complete and utter disbelief. "YOU... _PET_ THE AMALGAMITE?! WHILE IT WAS _ATTACKING_ YOU! _AND IT WORKED_???"

Frisk, fidgeted nervously, worried that the sheer ridiculousness of it wouldn't prevent Papyrus from believing them. ‘It... played fetch too. I used a stick to distract it when it tried to attack Sans again.’

Papyrus ran his gloved hands over his face, "...FETCH."

Frisk nodded. The tall skeleton leaned in to study their face, looking hard for anything that might reveal them to be lying. They jumped at the sudden movement of one hand lifting the bottom of the shirt, but it was only moved slightly so he could to take a look at the condition of their calves. His wary eyes raised to meet theirs, "HOW IS IT YOU LOOK UNINJURED?"

‘Flowey healed me with his magic.’ They answered, gesturing to the monster that had been ignored up to this point. Flowey gave an uncomfortable squeak as Papyrus' harsh gaze fell upon him, but the skeleton obviously didn't think much of it, quickly returning his focus to Frisk.

‘I actually passed out after throwing the stick... I think from losing a lot of blood. I woke up in Sans' bed.’

"SO. IF I UNDERSTAND CORRECTLY, YOU ABSOLUTELY REFUSE TO FIGHT."

Frisk nodded

"AND YOU USE NO MAGIC."

Again, they nodded.

There was a good long stare from the armored skeleton, and Frisk only hoped they were getting closer to putting the brother's mind at rest. Maybe even convince him to help them.

"WHAT DO YOU HOPE TO ACCOMPLISH WITH SUCH PATHETIC PACIFISM?"

Frisk perked up, their response flying from their hands, ‘I'm going to try to turn things back to how they used to be.’

Papyrus startled, and for the first time since the interrogation started his voice didn't have an aggressive snap to it, "HOW THINGS USED TO BE?"

‘I found a book from when 'Home' was being built. The monsters who wrote in it seemed to be happy and friendly, and spoke a lot about everyone caring for one another. I want to help bring that back to the underground.’

He fell silent for a long while, his bony ridges above his eyes creased with uncharacteristic uncertainty. At last, he raised himself from the ground into a tall stance, his hands placed firmly on the plate around his waist. "WE SHALL PUT THIS _RESOLVE_ OF YOURS TO THE TEST…… YOU WERE CALLED FRISK?” They nodded. “WELL, _FRISK_ , IF YOU CAN BRING YOURSELF BACK TO SNOWDIN TOWN FROM A CERTAIN POINT IN THE FOREST I’LL…” He hesitated, probably unsure what he was even going to promise.

"I'LL.. UHH… NOT KILL YOU." He finished, rather awkwardly.

Frisk beamed, and Papyrus reached for the cans in a huff. He stomped dramatically to the door, but stopped just before turning the knob. His head lowered. He didn't turn to speak, making it hard for Frisk to hear what he said next. He fumbled a little, too, as if he was about to divulge an embarrassing secret, "THANK YOU FOR SAVING MY BROTHER." And with that he disappeared outside.


	9. Sometimes It's Hard To Tell What The Other is Thinking

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the..... month long wait?!?!!!! AAAAGHH, I did not mean for it to take NEARLY as long as it has!! However, it's officially my summer break now so I'll have a much clearer schedule for the next two months or so!! (Even with getting a part-time job soon). I hope to really crack down on writing now so that I can have the next few chapters written by the end of the week. The next chapter will most likely be put up on Saturday!

Sans shook his head in wonder upon teleporting into the shed, “Alright you little miracle worker, boss wants us all back in the house, pronto. Whatever happened in here didn’t leave him in a very good mood.”

Frisk startled as a notebook and pencil were suddenly tossed at them. A scramble of arms managed to catch the small leather-bound book, but the pencil bounced against the wall behind them and rolled across the floor. After collecting both items neatly in their hands, Frisk finally put together what Sans' words. They frowned. An exchange of looks with Flowey told them they were both equally unsure as to what to make of the announcement. Only half of it lined up. Papyrus wanted them back at the house, not thrown out into the forest, or handed over to whatever the ‘royal guard’ was. He had stated to them himself that he wanted to test their abilities himself. But… he hadn’t been upset with them when he left, had he? If anything, Frisk would have said he was in a pretty good mood upon leaving.

Sans coughed impatiently, his eyes fixated on the two of them. Frisk brushed aside their thoughts and smiled up at Sans. They gave him a thumbs up as they pulled themself to their feet, signaling that they were ready. The red sparks began their dance around them. It really was interesting how quickly one got used to teleporting, the nauseous tug in their stomach while in limbo was no where near the same intensity it had been the first few times. It still scrambled their senses and left them unsure of their footing, but the sensation and colors around them were so… fascinating. Frisk wondered in that brief moment if going through so many jumps changed how it felt. Is there some strange understanding of the in-between space acquired after a while? They supposed it was something to be added to the growing list of things they wanted to ask Sans. 

Papyrus was pacing the breadth of the living room when they arrived. The sound of the crackling magic brought him to an abrupt stop. He straightened himself to his full height and was ordering them to seat themself before the last of Sans’ magic could dissipate. Well, whether he was in a good or bad mood was yet to be seen, but the aggressive snap in his voice had certainly returned, and in full effect. The old springs of the couch squealed and scraped together as Sans flopped ungracefully onto it. Besides him, Frisk took much more care with sitting down, mildly concerned of being jabbed by the springs through the rips and tears that decorated the couch. Papyrus caught their expectant stare, and quickly turned the other way. Was he avoiding their gaze? He cleared his throat, one hand across his body while the other pointed up with decisiveness, “IN ORDER TO CARRY OUT THE BEST COURSE OF ACTION, I HAVE DECIDED A THOROUGH EVALUATION OF THE HUMAN’S ABILITIES MUST BE CONDUCTED.” Papyrus began.

Frisk heard Sans grunt besides them, but the meaning behind the noise was impossible to discern. Whether or not Papyrus caught the noise himself, he continued. “THE HUMAN SHALL BE SUBJECTED TO A SERIES OF SEVERE TESTS POSITIONED AT STRATEGIC POINTS THROUGHOUT THE FOREST. AS THEY-- ”

He was interrupted this time by a loud groan and roll of eyes from Sans, “ _please_ tell me you’re not referring to the same dumb shit you put me through every day.”

Papyrus whirled around, his eyes flared with anger. “EXCUSE ME?!”

“Look boss, I’m just say’n. What kind of ‘results’ are you expecting to gather with all that nonsense?” Despite the nonchalant tone carried in his voice, his eyes were staring with harsh scrutiny. 

If anything, it only succeeded in making Papyrus angrier. The suddenness of his movements startled Frisk. He was immediately upon Sans, bent so that he was practically level with his brother, “ARE YOU _DOUBTING_ THE EFFICACY OF MY TRAPS?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, boss.” He growled, leaning back into the couch to distance himself from Papyrus.

Papyrus withdrew back to his previous spot towards the middle of the room. “IT IS NOT _NONSENSE_ , SANS!” He snapped defensively, “THE OBSERVATION OF THE HUMAN THROUGH SUCH GRUELING CIRCUMSTANCES WILL DETERMINE JUST HOW CAPABLE THEY ARE BY THEMSELF.”

Flowey startled in Frisk’s lap, “W-Wait. ‘By themself’’?! you don’t mean--”

He smirked, “YOU WILL BE KEPT UNDER MY OWN STRICT WATCH AT THE EDGE OF THE FOREST. NO HELP IS TO BE GIVEN TO THE HUMAN UNDER _ANY_ CIRCUMSTANCES. SANS?”

Sans rumbled with amusement, “Oh, you don’t have to worry about me, boss. I’m just as interested to see how the kid fares on their own.”

Papyrus gave a satisfied nod, “EXCELLENT.” 

Sans and Frisk’s eyes met, but whatever thoughts the skeleton was having were well guarded behind a cold grin. Frisk felt their stomach twist in knots. They had been fine with Papyrus putting them through the forest but… they had assumed they would at least have Flowey there with them. As brave as they were, it was nice to have someone at their side. Quite frankly, the thought of going through the forest alone _terrified_ them, _especially_ after what had happened with the amalgamate.

As if summoned by their thoughts, a distant howl was heard from somewhere outside. The two skeletons jerked in alarm, their eyes focused on Frisk. Sans leapt from the couch and rushed to the kitchen. His brothers spun towards where he disappeared through the doorway. “SANS? WHAT ARE YOU DOING?”

A few crashes of dishes and cabinets was the only response until he reemerged, pouring vinegar into a cup. “Getting something pungent. The last thing we want is to have the amalgamates catching the human’s scent from our house.” 

He tossed the vinegar bottle to Papyrus. “Here. Douse the window and door. I’ll do the same with the shed.”

Papyrus gave a tense nod and Frisk rolled out of the way as he immediately got to work, pushing the curtains aside in order to get to the window. Before the red sparks pulled Sans away he locked eyes with Frisk, “Just to be safe, I suggest you get away from the walls.”

Frisk obeyed and hurried to the center of the room. They clung tightly to Flowey as they sat down, shrinking into themself as if making them smaller would help minimize their ‘human smell’. Papyrus was covering the window and door from top to bottom with the stuff, moving as quickly as he could while still being careful to be thorough.

Sans returned within moments of Papyrus finishing, and the two gave a confirming nod to one another. Papyrus moved towards Frisk, positioning himself protectively besides them, eyes towards the window. The gesture earned a tense stare from Sans, but he quickly dropped it to pull himself onto the back of the couch. The curtains were pulled back over the windows and Sans put his back against the wall besides it. A skeletal hand ghosted underneath the curtain, lifting it just enough to catch a sliver of the town outside. 

Minutes had passed when Sans suddenly pulled away to flatten himself against the wall. From outside came what sounded like a rolling roar of wind, similar to what one might hear during a huge storm. Frisk jumped as an equally turbulent flurry of dark shapes and snow blew across the window, casting silhouettes against the curtain. They couldn’t breathe, their heart was racing with the same speed of the shadows. Yet, they felt lucky when none of the shapes hesitated. Not a single one paused outside of the house. 

And just like that, it was over. The sound of the Amalgamates faded away in the opposite direction. A combined sigh rolled through the room as each of them let go of their held breaths. “Must've been a successful hunt.” Sans said dryly.

“IT WORKS IN OUR FAVOR.” Papyrus reminded Sans.

The pinpricks of light in his eyes shifted back to Frisk. His mouth dropped into a scowl...well, a bigger scowl. “MMRPHH. BEFORE SENDING THEM OUT OF THEIR TEST, WE SHOULD DO SOMETHING ABOUT THEIR APPEARANCE. WE DON’T WANT ANY DANGEROUS ATTENTION TOMORROW. I’M SURE I CAN GATHER ENOUGH THINGS LYING AROUND THAT MIGHT BE OF USE FOR HIDING THEIR… FLESHY FEATURES.”

“Fine, as long as it doesn’t concern me, do what you want.” Was Sans’ bitter reply. “Are we done here?”

“YES, SANS. I SUPPOSE WE ARE ‘ _DONE HERE_ ’.”

Sans got to his feet and went to brush past the three of them to get to the stairs. Papyrus stopped him. “I SAW YOU HAD YET TO TOUCH...”

“I ain’t eating your shitty ‘food’!” Sans spat.

The sudden anger in Sans caught Frisk off-guard. He tried again to pass Papyrus, but the taller skeleton moved himself to block him. “SANS. I’D APPRECIATE IT IF YOU WEREN’T SO PICKY WITH FOOD.”

Sans glared at Papyrus, but his shoulders relaxed a little, almost as if in defeat. His voice changed instead to a laugh, “It ain’t a matter of being picky, boss. It’s a matter of choosing your poison, and I ain’t taking the _poison_ you’ve put on the table there.”

“OH DON’T BE SO DRAMATIC, SANS. IT’S SPAGHETTI.”

Frisk shifted awkwardly. They were starting to become very aware of the hunger that was biting at their own stomach, and they came to the sudden realization that the last thing they had eaten was a slice of pie from Toriel. How long ago was that? They… weren’t sure. If it wasn’t difficult enough to tell time in the underground already, they had no way of knowing how long they had been unconscious after their run-in with the amalgamate. In any case, whether it was two hours ago or five, the recent events had left them drained and hungry. With that being the case, it wasn’t that much of a surprise to Frisk, therefore, when their stomach growled at that moment.

Papyrus wasn’t close enough to take notice, or perhaps he was too focused on the absurd argument with his brother, but Sans had clearly noticed. “Tell you what.” He said. “If you can get _the kid_ to eat your ‘spaghetti’, and without them getting ill, I’ll eat.” 

Three pairs of eyes looked at Sans in shock, but the stocky skeleton remained unaffected. “Deal?”

Papyrus conceded with a huff, “ALRIGHT, FINE!! _DEAL_!” He shot a commanding gaze at Frisk, “WELL? WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR?! GET TO IT!”

Though there was a serious chance Sans’ allegation of the rankness of his brother’s cooking wasn’t unfounded, Frisk found it hard not to a giggle. They got to their feet with resolve and, with Flowey in hand, marched over to the table. As he was lifted onto the table, nearly level with Frisk’s face, Flowey dared to give a hushed hiss. “Frisk! Are you sure you want to agree to this?! What if it ends up being poisonous?” 

Frisk realized the notebook and pencil Sans had gotten for them had been abandoned on the couch, so no response could really be given. They pulled themself into the chair and steeled themself for whatever was about to be put on their plate. They looked up at Papyrus and Sans with a determined smile. Sans shook his head at the expression, a reluctant smile sneaking its way across his face. Papyrus dug a spoon into the pot, his head high. Frisk suppressed a shudder as the spoon scraped against something hard, and unfortunately it wasn’t the sound of metal sliding against metal. A hard brown and black substance fell heavily onto their plate, bits of not-quite noodles shattered with the impact.

It--uh-- could have been worse, Frisk supposed. Maybe. The noodles were definitely burnt, and there looked to be some sort of... sticky coating over them. The coating wasn’t from the sauce either, _that_ rested on top of the bound looking more like curdled salsa than tomato sauce. Nope, nevermind. Their attempt to remain optimistic fell away. It looked bad. Really, really bad. 

They swallowed hard and picked up the fork that rested besides the plate. The first attempt to break away a part of it failed. They brought the fork down again, harder. A chunk of it gave way, and they shoveled it onto their fork with a shaky hand. Three watched with varying expressions as they brought it to their mouth, and they made a silent plea in their head that it wouldn’t actually end up killing them. 

It tasted like they had put the burnt scrapings off of an oven being cleaned. The noodles practically crumbled to burnt shards as Frisk bit down, and the overpowering charred taste dried out their mouth. They weren’t sure if they wanted to cough, gag, drink something, or all three. Yet, Frisk put all their effort into controlling their expression. There was no way to cover up the reflexive reaction, but perhaps they could still pass it off as simple surprise. They were genuinely impressed with their own abilities when they succeeded in offering a smile to Papyrus. One that was apparently believable, if the content smile of his own was anything to go off of.

Sans, on the other hand, was not to be deceived. He gave a challenging smirk, “How’s the food, kid?”

They willed their hands to remain steady as they signed: ‘the taste is indescribable.’

That won a laugh. Little did he know, Frisk thought with a mischievous glint in their eyes, that they weren’t stopping there. In that instant they had decided they were more than willing to sacrifice their taste buds' condition if it would benefit their bond with both skeletons. They locked their eyes with Sans, bringing a second fork load of the burnt concoction to their mouth. His eyes grew wide and darkened, dumbstruck. Besides them, Flowey gave a disturbed whine. 

They had a strong feeling they would regret this later, but for now they were winning the war against the ‘spaghetti’.


	10. It May All Be In the Past, but It Certainly Builds Up

Sans fell backwards onto the tattered couch with a sickened groan. He put added exaggeration in the noise as he cast a stink eye at Frisk. The damn kid just _had_ to show him up, didn't they? Frisk gave him a proud smile in response. “Yeah. I bet you're _so pleased_ with yourself, aren't ya?”

Frisk put their hand over their mouth in a silent giggle, nodding. Sans rolled his eyes. He was going to be feeling the effects of Pap’s cooking for a while. Then again, so would Frisk. “I hope you think it's worth setting your throat on fire. It's raw, isn't it?”

There was a brief lapse in their grin, and Sans shook his head in wonder as they nodded again. Served them right. 

Frisk grabbed his attention again with a tug on his sleeve. ‘It sure made Papyrus happy, though.’ they signed cheerfully.

Sans scoffed. Papyrus was currently upstairs in his room, retrieving items that he thought would be helpful in disguising the human. What those items might be, Sans had no idea. He also had no idea why Frisk would try to cheer Papyrus. His brother had tried to kill them, and was currently preparing to put them against traps and any monsters that would be in the forest tomorrow. “Is that really why you did it?”

They nodded, causing something in Sans to twinge. He got to his feet, and retreated back into the kitchen. He let out a heavy sigh at the sink, reaching into one of the cabinets for a cup to fill with water. 

Frisk was going to get themself killed. If not tomorrow, then at some other point. It was simply a fact. Or, at least... before it had simply been a fact to him. Before, it hadn't been an upsetting thought. Why _should_ it affect him? They were a human, and every human who had fallen met the same fate. It was how things were. 

He and Papyrus had learned to accept how things were.

The last thing he wanted- heck, the last thing he _expected_ -was to become attached to the kid. He would have either dealt with the human himself, or let Papyrus have the honor of presenting the seventh soul to Asgore. It could have been over in an instant, and he and his brother would never have another worry for the rest of their lives. 

Yet, there was no denying it was all affecting him now. It was what caused his free hand to clench the countertop, and his head to fall to his chest. And, from what he had seen… it was affecting Papyrus too. He had seen him move instinctively to the kid’s side when the amalgamates ran through town. Frisk was trying their hardest to soften his brother’s hostile exterior, and it was working, whether Papyrus was aware of it himself or not.

Sans could guess as to the real reasoning behind the decision to put Frisk through the forest tomorrow. Papyrus needed to be sure Frisk’s resolve wasn’t just some disillusioned hope. It was better to hurry along the human’s death than to risk getting foolish hopes up. But, unlike Papyrus, there was a part of Sans that already knew Frisk could do it. 

His mind went to earlier that day; Frisk had handled the amalgamates, something that was impossible for the average monster. Encountering one either ended with landing a large enough blow that awarded enough time to get away, or certain death. That hadn't been the case with Frisk. Sure, they had needed him to teleport the three of them to safety, but as far as he was concerned Frisk had won that figh...encounter.

Sans realized that that was what was eating at him the most. If they _could_ survive tomorrow... If Frisk could survive down here, it would mean he had been wrong. He and his brother spent _years_ fighting to survive in this hellish world, committing horrific deeds without a second’s hesitation, all with the internal justification that there was no other choice. 

A small finger tapped his shoulder. Sans whirled around to Frisk standing not three feet away from him. But, he didn’t see Frisk at first. He imagined his brother, all those years ago.

Papyrus had been just like them, before all this shit happened. He had been small, and kind, and always saw the good in others. He had lured Papyrus into abandoning that kindness. He had been so convinced his brother wouldn’t have any chance of surviving otherwise. Now there was living, breathing proof in front of him, rubbing in his face just how fucking wrong he had been this entire time. For the second time since Frisk had arrived Sans felt himself on the verge of tears.

Frisk looked at him with concern, which only grew when they saw the strain Sans knew was plastered on his face.

He pushed the cup roughly into their hands, but it was only given a brief glance before Frisk looked back at him. He gave an irritated huff, “what?”

They moved their fingers awkwardly, obviously incapable of signing with the drink. Sans maintained the little staring contest with them up until Frisk mouthed ‘What's wrong?’

“Nothing. Everything's just _peachy_.” Sans stepped around them in a desperate attempt to get to the doorway. He didn’t feel as though he could deal with the kid at that moment. 

Of course, there wasn’t really anywhere he could go. Even if he went to lock himself in his room he knew Papyrus would give him shit for leaving the kid alone. He leaned against the side of the couch, not quite committed to sitting down, especially with Flowey currently placed there. He had his back on the plant monster, eyes waiting expectantly for Frisk to appear through the doorway after him. They didn’t. 

A few sounds came from the kitchen. From his current position Sans couldn’t see into the room, and he couldn’t really guess what Frisk was up to by the soft ‘thuds’ against the cabinets.

Oh. The faucet had turned on. Frisk would have had to climb onto the counter to reach the sink. They must be getting themself another cup of water. 

His head sank back to stare blankly at the ceiling. What was taking Papyrus so long up there? There couldn’t possibly be that many useful items in his room, and it wasn’t a mess like his own. It wouldn’t take his brother very long to locate whatever he was looking for. As soon as Papyrus was back he could duck out and avoid the kid till tomorrow. It wouldn’t keep these thoughts from jabbing at him, but at least he wouldn’t have Frisk prying at him to open up.

There was a nudge at his arm when Frisk finally came back into the room, and he cracked an eye down at them. They held a second glass in their other hand, and held it up for him. He mumbled a thanks as he took it, a little surprised by the unexpected gesture. 

Frisk sat down at his side, sipping the cup of water he had given them. They didn’t make any move in attempt to sign, nor did they turn to him to look at him as they had before. _Huh_. So maybe they weren’t going to pry. He took a long swig from the cup, letting out a relieved sigh as the cold water rinsed out the remaining taste of Papyrus’ cooking. He planted an appreciative hand on their head, “You’re a good kid, Frisk.”

They beamed up at him, leaning into his side in response. It was a little awkward with his elevated seat on the couch's arm, but it was nice. They both finished their drinks, dropped seconds later into the sink with a snap of Sans’ fingers.

 

A muffled noise came from the floor above, and Sans shifted himself away from Frisk moments before they heard Papyrus’ bedroom door open. The tall skeleton marched down the stairs, a large black cloth in one hand, and a much smaller cloth bundle in the other. Sans’ stiffened, recognizing the former cloak in an instant. “Where did you get _THAT_?”

Sans flinched as Papyrus moved the black fabric so that it was more in-view, “IT _WAS_ ORIGINALLY HIS ROOM.”

“But _why_ is his stuff still in there?!”

“DISPOSING OF THEM WOULD BE A WASTE OF RESOURCES, SANS.” He stated matter-of-factly, “CLOTHING CAN BE REUSED OR RE-PURPOSED, AS IT WILL NOW BE.”

“It’s too big for them.”

Papyrus growled in annoyance, “I HAPPEN TO KNOW YOU ARE MORE THAN CAPABLE OF ALTERING IT FOR THE HUMAN! THE OLD SEWING MACHINE SHOULD STILL BE FUNCTIONAL.”

Something flinched under San’s hand, and he realized he had Frisk’s shoulder in a vice-grip. He quickly removed his hand, and folded his arms across his chest, “I’m not touching anything of _His_. Find something else.”

“I MOST CERTAINLY WILL NOT!” Papyrus roared. He forced the cloak into San’s arms. “YOU WILL HAVE IT DONE UNDER THREE HOURS!”

Sans’ teeth grinded against each other. He threw the cloak onto Frisk and slid onto the floor, “I’ll get the measuring tape.” He muttered.

 

\---

 

Frisk moved their hand over the cloak lying on their lap, smoothing out the biggest lumps with an idle hand as a few things ran through their mind. This had belonged to the skeletons’ father. Was it really okay for them to wear something so… was it sentimental? Sans certainly didn’t seem to think well of their late father. He had been quick to change the subject the last time it had been brought up as well. Yet, Papyrus didn’t seem to have any animosity towards his father, at least not on the surface. Curiosity drove them to brave a question towards Papyrus. ‘Papyrus,’ They signed, though there wasn’t any need to grab the skeleton’s attention. He was already scanning them with a critical eye. ‘What was your father like?’

Papyrus made a face, “ ‘WAS’? THAT’S A BIZARRE WAY OF ASKING ABOUT SOMEONE WHO’S STILL ALIVE.”

Both Frisk and Flowey looked up in shock. “Wait, he’s still alive?”

Papyrus frowned at Flowey’s expressed disbelief, “YES... WHY IS THAT SURPRISING?”

‘The way you and Sans were talking about his stuff and how the room _used_ to be his.’ Frisk explained, ‘Sans also mentioned before how you and he know sign language because your father used to use it.’

Papyrus hummed thoughtfully, “AH. YES, I SUPPOSE IT MAKES SENSE YOU WOULD GET THAT IDEA. HOWEVER, GASTER - THAT IS, OUR FATHER- IS INDEED STILL VERY MUCH ALIVE. HE JUST… HASN’T COME HERE IN A VERY LONG TIME.”

Frisk frowned, ‘Why’s that?’

Papyrus straightened himself in pride, “HE’S THE ROYAL SCIENTIST!!! HE’S THROWN HIMSELF DEDICATEDLY INTO HIS WORK FOR THE KING! HE KNOWS WE ARE MORE THAN CAPABLE LIVING ON OUR OWN, SO THERE IS NO NEED FOR HIM TO WASTE TIME COMING HERE.”

“More like he wouldn’t dare show his face around here.” Sans stated coldly, having reappeared at the bottom of the stairs. 

Papyrus barked with laughter, “PLEASE. AS IF FATHER WOULD EVER BE INTIMIDATED BY YOU. YOUR PETTY GRUDGE HAS NOTHING TO DO HIS ABSENCE.”

Sans didn’t reply. He motioned with a sharp gesture for Frisk to stand, stretching out the measuring tape he now held in his hands.

He looked at Papyrus out of the corner of his eye-socket as he went around Frisk with the measuring tape. “What’s the other bundle you got there?” 

Despite the change of subject, Frisk still noted remaining small traces of his disgust towards involving himself with anything related to Gaster in his voice.

“EVEN ADDING A HOOD OR SCARF WON’T COVER THEIR FACE, SO I WENT OUT THE WINDOW IN MY BEDROOM TO RETRIEVE A HANDFUL OF MUD TO COVER THEIR FACE WITH.” He undid the knot to reveal the snow moistened mud that had been packed into the bundle.

Sans stopped and stared at his brother in disbelief. Not a second later he was doubled over with laughter, “BWAHAHAHA, I can’t fucking believe this! You’re going to cover the kid’s face with... with _dirt_! And you think it’s going to magically convince others they’re a _monster_?!”

Papyrus reddened in embarrassment, something Frisk hadn’t even known skeletons could do. “OH, AND YOU HAVE A BETTER IDEA, DO YOU?”

Sans rolled his eyes, “Actually I do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was super excited about writing this chapter! Not that a lot actually happened, but we finally got a look at all the things Sans has had on his mind as well as some more information about Gaster! This is pretty much all that will be mentioned of the skeleton father until Frisk reaches Hotland and the Lab. 
> 
> Gaster plays a pretty big role in this story, and I intend on including a partner piece to this story once we get far enough so that it won't be spoilers. It doesn't have a title yet, but it will be on events that happened years before the start of this story, and all in Gaster's perspective!


	11. Tired Souls

Despite his aversion to the task, Sans did in fact have the cloak altered down to their size well under those three hours, even using the excess fabric to create a hood for them. 

With a little persuasion Papyrus agreed to let Frisk examine the cloak in the mirror. The mirror being in Papyrus’ room was an added bonus, as they were extremely curious to see as much as they could of the skeletons’ house.

There wasn’t too much to the room. For reasons Frisk could understand it seemed like furnishing and decoration wasn’t a priority of either brother. Both bedrooms had little more than a bed and a place for their clothes. Much to their surprise, however, there _was_ a pirate flag on Papyrus’ wall, and a single bookcase filled with books of varying condition.They had the urge to look through the titles on the shelves, but Frisk had a feeling Papyrus wouldn’t be so permissive. 

They moved their attention away from the rest of the room in favor of admiring the new cloak. Frisk pulled the hood over their head and swayed around in front of the Papyrus’ mirror, completely in awe at San’s work as it swished back and forth with their movements. They never would have thought Sans to have such a talent with sewing, but the surprise made them giddy. It was clear just how little they knew about the brothers, but with each passing moment they seemed to learn something new. It was relieving in a way. As different as monsters were from humans, they weren’t absorbed in hatred and violence. They had talents, humor, _kindness_ , all kept hidden from the outside world, yes, but it was still present.

They looked eagerly at Papyrus, who had stationed himself at the wall of the bedroom, pretending to ignore them for the most part. Frisk knew his attention was still on them, and that he would see them sign at him. ‘Sans is really good at making clothes!’

He grumbled with reluctant agreement. “YES, HE DOES HAVE QUITE A FEW TALENTS WHEN HE ACTUALLY BOTHERS TO DO SOMETHING. WHICH ISN’T OFTEN, MIND YOU.”

Frisk saw the opportunity before them, ‘What else is he good at?’

He wasn’t inclined to answer that at first, trying to reassume his ‘cold-hearted warden’ front. It was obvious he wasn’t used to talking about Sans in such a way. He seemed reluctant to continue the praise, however backhanded the compliment. Frisk was not to be dissuaded. They waited patiently for an answer. “WELL...HE DID MAKE MY ARMOR.” Papyrus said quietly, or at least, quiet for him.

He put a hesitant hand to the jagged shoulder piece, “HE’S RATHER SKILLED IN METALWORKING FROM WORKING WITH MACHINERY AND SCIENCEY STUFF, BUT... HIS BITTERNESS TOWARDS OUR FATHER KIND OF KILLED HIS PASSION FOR IT."

He crossed his arms again, closing his eyes in aggravation. “SUCH WASTED TALENT.”

Frisk’s eyes lit like stars as they took in the entirety of Papyrus’ armor. They couldn’t wrap their head around the new information. ‘Sans made your armor?! That’s so cool!’

They scurried over and pulled on Papyrus’ hands, urging him to join them in front of the mirror. Papyrus went rigid, suddenly alert to Frisk’s every movement. They realized immediately that it had been rather dangerous of them to reach so suddenly towards the untrusting skeleton, but luckily Papyrus didn’t lash out in instinct. They were convinced it was another sign that Papyrus was slowly warming up to them. Frisk bounced happily as they looked at the two of them in the mirror, both adorned in outfits skillfully made by Sans. Wary puzzlement slowly gave way to slight admiration from Papyrus as well. The only thing that gave it away was the smallest of softening in his eyes, but Frisk caught it in an instant.

“Uhh, boss?” The puzzled call from downstairs indicated Sans had teleported back into the house.

Frisk scooped up Flowey from besides them and ran to the railing and waved to Sans. “What’chya doin up there?” He asked.

Flowey used his vines to pull himself onto the railing, allowing Frisk to sign back. They made a point of smiling at Flowey in thanks before signing to Sans. ‘Papyrus let me look in the mirror. It looks awesome!’

Papyrus appeared behind them, cutting off any response Sans might have given to the compliment. “SO, WHAT IS THIS _SUPERIOR_ IDEA OF YOURS, SANS?”

Sans climbed the stairs to join them on the second level. He presented a curved piece of wood that had been freshly cut away from a tree. “Well it still needs to be shaped, but something tells me a mask might serve them better than some mud.”

Papyrus grunted, obviously unwilling to admit Sans was right. “I’LL LEAVE YOU TO THAT THEN.”

Frisk watched as Papyrus left them, heading downstairs. When he was no longer in sight of their hands Frisk turned excitedly towards Sans, ‘Papyrus was impressed with the cloak too. He told me you’re super great at a lot of things, like how you also made his armor!’

Sans snorted, opting to sign back instead of replying verbally. ‘Nice try kid, but there’s no way Papyrus put ‘Sans’ and ‘super great’ in the same sentence.’

Frisk puffed their cheeks in irritation, ‘yeah, but he really did say you had a lot of talents! He just gets mad that you don’t do much with them.’

Sans frowned at that, though he seemed more in thought than upset. 

Back downstairs, Frisk seated themself back onto the couch, Flowey and Sans on either side of them. Sans busied himself with making the mask, using a small magical bone and skilled hand to cut away at the block of wood. There was a peaceful air about the house. The sound of running water from the kitchen mingled with the soft scraping of the wood. The faint ‘clink’ of pots and plates in the sink were frequent, as Papyrus cleaned the pots and plates from their meal. Everything felt relaxed, homely even.

Flowey, however, did not seem to share in the feeling. It had been quite a while since Frisk had properly communicated with him. The least they could do was make sure he was okay. He had gone through nothing but fear and stress the entire day. The effects of the day were starting to show in his limp leaves.

Frisk fished the notebook and pencil from where they had fallen in the space between the cushions. They spent a brief moment to inspect their new notebook as they didn’t get the chance to do so before. It was a little smaller than the one from their home in the ruins. The leather cover was worn, with several small scratches and splotches marring the surface. Inside the covers they immediately noticed the first dozen pages or so had been torn out. San’s name was written in small dark letters with pen on the inside of the front cover. They resisted the urge to look up at Sans. He seemed so contented, working quietly on the wooden mask. They didn’t want to disturb him.

Frisk poked the boot as they turned the book towards him. He lifted his previously downcast face towards them. His eyes read the lines in front of him. ‘How are you doing?’

“Oh. I’m-- I’m fine. Just feeling a little drained from everything that’s happened, you know?” He gave a weak laugh.

‘Sorry you had to use your magic on me so much today.’

He waved his leaves frantically, “No, no! Really I’m fine! Just… Promise me you’ll be careful tomorrow? Like, _super careful?!_ ”

Frisk nodded, putting a little more effort into maintaining their smile. They were just as nervous, but the last thing they wanted was for Flowey to panic over them. Plus, if they couldn't feign confidence now, how could they expect to gather courage? They had been successful so far, and they succeeded before why wouldn't they be able to tomorrow? Frisk wrote down ‘I promise’ as further reassurance. 

Flowey sighed, “I still think you’re crazy.” 

Frisk giggled. ‘I know.’ 

“Do you realize how many times you almost died today? Too many times Frisk!” 

They added ‘sorry’ to the end of their last line and turned it towards him again. He fell silent after that, and eventually his head lowered again. Frisk didn’t want to leave it at that, they tried to think of something to say that might cheer him up, but they couldn’t. They knew that being left with Papyrus tomorrow would be scary for him as well, and honestly to fear was justifiable, taking everything into consideration. 

Frisk sat back with a sigh, admitting defeat. Sans gave them a curious glance, but only briefly. His attention was immediately redirected back to the mask when they offered a small smile in return. The peaceful quiet blanketed over them once again, only broken when a yawn eventually rose in their chest. 

Sans stopped. “Hey, boss. Where did you want these two sleeping tonight?” 

“THE SHED WILL SUFFICE.” Papyrus called back. 

Sans thought for a few seconds before a deep frown settled across his face.“Are you planning on keeping watch over them?” 

Papyrus appeared in the doorway, slightly off put, “THAT’S A GIVEN.” 

Sans put the mask down besides him, a note of finalization in his voice. “They’re not sleeping in the shed.” 

“ _EXCUSE ME_?” 

“I’ll throw something together for them in here. Watch them from the couch if you’d like.” 

Papyrus tried to challenge the decision multiple times as Sans grabbed a pillow and sheet from his own room and put it in the corner against the stairs. The pillow was propped up against the wall, but the sheet was thrown down haphazardly. “There ya go, kiddo.” 

Frisk stood up from where they were sitting. ‘Thank you.’ 

Their unnecessary politeness caused him to roll his eyes. He flopped back into his spot on the couch, giving Frisk a puzzled look when they remained standing. “What? You going to bed now?” 

They nodded, ‘tired.’ 

Flowey, the pencil, and the notebook were all brought with them across the room. They folded some of the sheet beneath them and covered themself with what was left. Papyrus begrudgingly accepted it, taking up watch from the couch. Without another word between them, Sans summoned another small bone and got back to work. 

And yet, as exhausted as they felt, sleep just wasn’t coming to them. It was most likely the fear of what would come the next day, but the floor being extremely hard certainly wasn’t helping either. Their whole body begged them to turn over, to find a position that might be even the slightest bit easier on their limbs. But, they were reluctant to move, what with Papyrus ‘keeping watch’. Frisk knew any movement from them wouldn’t help convince him they weren’t going to try anything. Nevertheless, the side of their hip pressed uncomfortably against the ground was beginning to hurt them a great deal. 

They weren’t really sure how long they had been lying uncomfortably there, it felt like an eternity to them, but a soft whisper came from the couch. “Paps.” 

There was a squeak from the rusted springs; Frisk figured the sudden whisper from Sans had startled the older brother. He gave a harsh hiss, “SANS, QUIET! YOU’LL WAKE THEM.” 

A sigh, “Get some sleep, Papyrus. It’s late.” 

“HOW CAN YOU EXPECT ME TO SLEEP WHILE THERE’S A HUMAN IN THE HOUSE? WE DON’T KNOW IF THEY HAVE SHOWN THEIR TRUE COLORS YET.” 

“You said it yourself, didn’t you? The kid’s asleep. They ain’t gonna do anything if they’re asleep.” 

“THE FACT STILL STANDS THAT THERE NEEDS TO BE SOMEONE ON WATCH, AND I KNOW YOU ARE ALL TOO QUICK TO FALL ASLEEP.” 

“Papyrus.” Sans’ voice grew more stern, “When was the last time you slept?" 

“THAT’S IRRELEVANT.” 

Silence returned once more to the dark house. Frisk strained to hear any noise, but there was only the faint noise of Sans scraping away at the wooden mask. Frisk had figured that was the end of it, but, a minute later, another noise began. Sans had started humming. It was a slow, almost mournful tune. It earned a harsh whisper from his brother. “STOP THAT.” 

There wasn’t even a falter in Sans’ voice, he kept on humming, low and gradual. Papyrus growled in warning, “SANS…” 

It continued as before, and Papyrus reluctantly gave in, but not without an overabundant number of grumbles. The song began to pull on Frisk themself, lulling them into sleep. Their hip no longer bothered them as much with their attention diverted, and their exhaustion was finally able to settle in. They were nearly asleep too, when something impacted with the floor, sending a small wave of vibration through it. Having been nearly asleep, their eyes opened. Sans was standing with his back turned to them, holding Papyrus’ shoulders in his hands. 

“YOU--” Papyrus grumbled, his voice thick with sleep, “YOU DID THAT ON PURPOSE.” 

There was a quiet chuckle from Sans, “Maybe, but you still nearly fell off the couch falling asleep. It’ll be fine, Paps. Nothing will happen if you let yourself sleep for a few hours. I _promise_.” 

Papyrus made a noise that was probably meant to be an objection, but it came out more as a grunt. Papyrus didn’t lie down, but he did lean back into the couch. He wasn’t even awake enough to catch Frisk quickly close their eyes again. It was obviously good enough for Sans, the springs creaked loudly under what could only be him sitting back down. Sans’ humming resumed, and it wasn’t long before Frisk began to fall asleep again, a small feeling in the back of their mind that they had just witnessed a secret of sorts between the brothers. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Starting next chapter things will definitely start to be more intense again, sorry for the slow pace these past few chapters. I hope they weren't too boring? 
> 
> I will try to have the next chapter up by next Wednesday, hopefully before then.


	12. The Wheels are Set in Motion

A hand shook Frisk’s shoulder. Their eyes opened groggily to see Sans kneeling beside them, a finger held up in front of his mouth. He leaned to the side to reveal Papyrus still asleep on the couch, head sagging in the same sitting position as last night. Frisk nodded and slowly sat up, careful not to make noise as Sans instructed. They winced when their stomach twinged with the movement, the previous night hadn’t left them in good condition. ‘You alright?’ Sans signed.

Frisk nodded and brought their hands to their stomach. Sans understood, and he offered his hand to help them up. When they were on their feet he gestured towards the kitchen, ‘let’s get some actual food in that stomach of yours.’

Frisk smiled appreciatively, leaning over to poke one of Flowey’s petals. He startled awake, immediately straightened. Just as Sans had, Frisk pressed a finger to their lips and pointed towards the couch. Flowey gulped, his mouth making a surprised ‘oh’. He shifted his gaze back to Frisk and nodded in understanding.

There was an impatient tap at their shoulder, ‘if you want to eat, I suggest you hurry. The boss doesn’t usually sleep for long.’

Frisk scooped up Flowey and followed Sans into the kitchen. Sans used his magic to open the cabinet doors, pulling out a half-loaf of bread. Frisk was rather impressed as they watched them close again without a sound. The fridge, however, wasn’t as silent. The strips holding the door closed still separated with a pop, and its hum grew louder after being opened. Frisk sat down at the table as a block of cheese was placed besides the bread.

A second later Sans had a knife drawn from the drawers and got to work on cutting slices of bread and cheese for the three of them. Frisk took their share eagerly and wolfed it down, a smile pulling at the corners of their mouth. They were glad to finally have proper food in their stomach again. They only hoped it would also help to loosen the knots already in their stomach from the night before. ‘I know it isn’t much of a breakfast,’ Sans signed after shoving the last bit of bread in his mouth.

Frisk shook their head, ‘it’s perfect.’ 

He leaned back in his chair, ‘I should try to strike a deal with Grillby later today for more food. If we’re lucky, I might even be able to persuade Paps to lay off the spaghetti for tonight.’

Frisk looked curiously at him, ‘Who’s Grillby?’

‘A fire-elemental in town. He somehow has a hold on a large flow of supplies, damn impressive considering how things are down here. G distributes it to townsfolk who have something to give in return. No one but the royal guard gets actual income anymore, so the trading system’s helps out immensely. Sure there are a few with their own stock of stuff, but he’s the only reliable source of supplies since no one dares to mess with him.’ He grinned, ‘You know what they say about playing with fire.’

Frisk nodded, and thanked Sans when he offered them a second piece of the bread and cheese. They felt substantially better after eating the food. When all three of them finished and everything was put back in its place, Sans leaned close in a whisper. “You two should go back and pretend to sleep till the boss wakes up. I should think he’ll want to send Frisk on their way as soon as he’s awake.”

Both Frisk and Flowey nodded, and Frisk exited the room on tiptoes, back to the pillow and sheet. Sans lowered himself back onto the couch as slow and carefully and anyone possibly could. The whine of the springs was barely audible with the duration it took for him to sit on the cushion. Frisk turned themself so that they faced the wall. 

A soft snore came from the couch minutes later, and a slight smile came to Frisk’s face. They couldn’t believe Sans had actually gone back to sleep, and in no time at all too. They themself no longer felt tired, and instead passed the time imagining shapes and patterns in the rough surface of the wall. They were actually surprised how much more relaxed they felt, at least compared to last night. Perhaps it was partly due to how calm Sans had been this morning. He didn’t seem to be the least bit worried for them. They didn’t let themself think there was a chance he wouldn’t care. He _had_ woken them up to make sure they had eaten properly before starting Papyrus’ trial.

The wait for Papyrus to wake up wasn’t very long. There was a long, tired groan and the sound of the springs as weight was shifting on the couch. “SANS.” He hissed at his brother.

Sans gave no response, “SANS, YOU LAZY SACK OF BONES, GET UP ALREADY!”

Frisk debated whether they should ‘wake up’ then, or wait for one of the brothers to make a move to rouse them. There was a thump against the couch, “SANS! THIS IS YOUR THIRD AND LAST WARNING! WAKE UP!”

Frisk sat up, deciding it would be too strange to pretend the noise wouldn’t wake them. Flowey had lifted himself as well, already watching Papyrus with nervous eyes. Sans stretched himself, causing a few joints to pop. “Alright, Alright. I’m up. Yeesh, anymore kicks and this couch is going to finally break.”

“WELL WE WOULDN’T HAVE TO WORRY ABOUT THAT IF YOU WEREN’T SUCH A HEAVY SLEEPER!”

He cast a glance behind him and saw the two pairs of eyes watching him, “AH, YOU TWO ARE AWAKE. WE CAN HEAD OUT IMMEDIATELY THEN! SANS, THE MASK?”

Sans leaned over the arm of the couch and picked it up from the floor. He handed it to Papyrus. “Right here.”

“VERY GOOD. HUMAN, PUT THIS-” He stopped, looking down at the mask in his hands.

Papyrus cleared his throat, his voice quieted a few decimals, “THE.. UHH, DECORATIONS ARE RATHER EXCESSIVE…”

Sans sank into the couch with a smirk. “I thought it’d be a nice touch.”

Papyrus made a noise, but didn’t say anything more. He gave the mask to Frisk before storming towards the door, “REPORT TO ME WITH THE PLANT WHEN YOU’VE DROPPED THE HUMAN IN THE FOREST. I’LL BE IN THE CLEARING WHERE I USUALLY TRAIN.”

Sans gave a thumbs up, “ ‘Got it.”

Papyrus gave a final look around the house before nodding, apparently satisfied. The door slammed behind him. 

Frisk looked at the ‘excessively’ decorated mask in their hands. The engraving wasn’t that complicated really. Grooves followed curved around the cheeks and along bridge of the nose before spreading out into wings on the forehead, a circle between the two. It was quite beautiful, but Frisk couldn’t see a cause for Papyrus’ reaction. The pulled the band over their head so that the straps rested just above their ears. Sans smiled as Frisk pulled the hood over their head, completing their look. The mask fit snuggly, but not so tight that it was uncomfortable. Flowey snorted at their feet. “You’ve got a weird sense of humor.” He whispered, turning towards Sans.

Frisk looked between Flowey and Sans in confusion, and picked up the notebook and pencil from besides their bag, ‘what?’

“It resembles the upper part of the Delta Rune, the emblem of the Monster Kingdom.” Flowey explained.

“There’s a prophecy of sorts associated with it.” Sans said, lifting himself to his feet. “The winged circle is said to be an angel from the surface, one that will descend upon the underground and bring freedom to all monsters.”

Frisk lifted the mask to the top of their head, looking up at Sans in surprise. “It’s what your goal is, isn’t it? I thought it suited you.”

“Except for the fact that with the current situation, it’s viewed more as an ‘angel of death’.” Flowey retorted, “A lot of monster only see death as true freedom from this hell. He’s made you look like a grim reaper.” 

Sans rolled his eyes, “An incredibly small one, but yes.”

Frisk smiled. They liked the idea of bringing back the original meaning of the symbol for the monsters. They wrote into the book and showed it to the two monsters, ‘I’ll just have to show them I won’t hurt them!’

Sans chuckled, “Alright, sparkle-eyes. Let’s get your shoes from upstairs so we can head out. Hopefully there aren’t too many holes in them.”

 

There were, unfortunately, quite a number of holes burned into them from the black ooze. Sans lent them two pairs of socks to hopefully keep out some of the cold, but Frisk had a feeling their feet would be thoroughly cold and wet by the time they made it through the forest.

They now stood feet away from the huge doors to the ruins, the eerie silence of the forest around them once more. 

Sans planted a hand on the top of their head, his other was holding Flowey in the boot. “Don’t worry too much. It should be a week or so before the sickos at the lab send the amalgamates on another hunt. They might not even come to Snowdin next time. The monsters around here are nothing compared the those atrocities, and it’s more or less a straight path to town. If you keep heading straight, you’ll be out in no time. But, just in case, here.”

He handed them a small paper bag. Inside it was a few more slices of the bread and cheese from earlier. “Our food does have some healing properties. You know, us being magic and all. If possible, most monsters will keep some sort of food on them when going outside. It wouldn’t be fair to send you without anything as well. Now, it won’t be anywhere near as effective as actual healing magic, so no guarantees it’ll prove helpful if you find yourself in a tight spot.”

Frisk nodded and slung their bag from under their cloak to store the food. When it was once more on their shoulders, Frisk hugged Sans. He stiffened at first, but eventually gave a few pats to their back, “See you soon, kiddo.”

\---

A quick flash and Sans was standing in the clearing Papyrus said he was waiting. His vision was completely blurred in blue, and he dove out of the way just in time to dodge a line of magical bones. Sans glared from the freshly scorched ground where he had just been standing to his brother. “Careful where your slinging magic! You nearly hit me!”

Papyrus rolled his eyes, “IF YOU GOT HIT, IT WOULD BE ENTIRELY YOUR FAULT, SANS.”

However skewed the logic seemed, Sans understood what his brother meant. Papyrus couldn’t just stand around doing nothing while he waited. His brother was never inactive, anything else would draw the attention from any monster that happened to come nearby. Throwing powerful magic around in training, on the other hand, was completely expected. Papyrus figured Sans should have expected it as well, and would have been more carefully when teleporting into the clearing. The training cover-up was a good idea. It shouldn’t take Frisk longer than an hour or so to get to this point, so the amount of time Papyrus would be here was within a reasonable training session as well. And as long as they didn’t take much longer than that, Papyrus wouldn’t run into any risk of exhausting his magic.

Sans gave an exaggerated huff in annoyance, it still wasn’t particularly pleasant to be nearly shish kabobed by his brother. “The kid’s dumped at the start and making their way here.”

“VERY GOOD. NOW WE SHALL SEE HOW FAR THEIR PATHETIC KINDNESS WILL CARRY THEM.”

Not seeing much reason to hang around there, Sans turned away to prepare for another jump. But the sound of snow crunching behind him caused Sans to stop. Papyrus had taken a step towards him. “ARE YOU GOING IN ORDER TO KEEP AN EYE ON THEM?”

Sans froze, letting the magic around him fizzle. There hadn’t been any anger in the question. It wasn’t a challenge, or accompanied with a threat. It was an honest to goodness question from his brother. He looked at his Papyrus, careful to keep his gaze neutral, "Well I can’t have you waiting forever for a dead kid.”

A small choked noise came from Papyrus. He quickly tried to pass it off as clearing his throat, squaring his shoulders as he did so. Sans gave a sigh; he had known from last night. He wasn’t planning on confronting Papyrus about Frisk, but there was no avoiding it. He had to make sure Papyrus realized he was warming up to the human. Sans scanned around the clearing, heightening his magic to detect any monsters. 

There weren’t any. good. He tucked the boot Flowey was in under his arm and cast a long, hard stare towards Papyrus. “Papyrus.”

“SH-SHOULDN’T YOU BE GOING? YOU DON’T WANT TO LOSE TRACK OF THEM.”

Did his brother just stammer? Yeah, this _definitely_ had to be dealt with now. Sans’ voice became firmer, “ _Papyrus_.”

He didn’t answer, but shifted his eyes away with arms crossed. 

Sans frowned, “You realize Frisk is a human, right?”

Papyrus’ head snapped up, “WHAT?! WELL OF COURSE I REALIZE THEY’RE _HUMAN_!! HONESTLY, SANS! WHAT KIND OF QUESTION IS--?”

“Then tell me what the plan is.”

“YOU ALREADY KNOW WHAT THE PLAN IS!!!”

“No, actually. I don’t think I do.”

“I EXPLAINED IT YESTERDAY! I _THOUGHT_ I WAS RATHER CLEAR.”

He shook his head, “That wasn’t a plan, Papyrus. So the kid’s going through the forest to test their abilities. _What. Then?_ ”

Again, there wasn’t a response from his brother. Papyrus was doing everything in his power to maintain his domineering appearance. They stood there staring at each other, the cold wind whistling past them. Sans decided to break the silence, “Alright. How about another question then? When are we contacting Undyne?”

Papyrus startled; his hands fell to his sides. “WE’RE NOT.”

Sans raised a brow bone in question, and Papyrus quickly jumped to explain himself, “WE WON’T RECEIVE ANY RECOGNITION IF WE LET UNDYNE TAKE THE HUMAN’S SOUL. WE SHOULD BE THE ONES TO TAKE THE HUMAN TO THE CASTLE.”

Sans let out a slow, frustrated breath, “So is _that_ the plan then, boss? Frisk gets through the forest in one piece. They go through all your puzzles, survive your most horrid tests, and manage to get past any monsters they encounter on their way here. Without fighting. Are you really just going to give the kid’s soul to the king anyway? How is that outcome any different than if they die out there? Why go through all the trouble if you’re just going to do the same thing regardless?”

Papyrus’ brows knit together in defeated uncertainty. Sans wasn’t sure when the last time he’d seen Papyrus at such a loss. His brother had always been so confident in himself, so sure in every action, no matter how merciless it had been. Sans had made sure he’d have that confidence. He needed it to survive down here. But now he stood there, staring blankly at Sans, his eyes finding difficulty in focusing. 

Sans left Flowey on the ground. He dragged his feet through the snow, shoving his hands in his pockets as if the cold was getting to him. His head moved back to look up at his brother, using the closed distance between them to draw Papyrus’ attention. Sans’ voice was soft when he spoke again, “Listen, Paps. All I’m asking is if the kid makes it here, that you know what you’re doing, whatever your resolve may be.” He gave a reassuring smile, “You’re the boss, right? Whatever decision you make, I’ll support.”

Papyrus was caught off guard by Sans’ last words. His mouth moved to say something, but no words came out. Even so, the glimmer in his eyes told Sans he understood. He may not have reached a resolve yet, but at least he wasn’t denying that he was having doubtful thoughts any longer. He knew he had to come to a decision. For now, that was enough for Sans. He gathered his magic and teleported out of the clearing.


End file.
